


Adoration

by AGDoren



Series: Adoration [1]
Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Ash Tyler - Freeform, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Hugh Culber/Paul Stamets - Freeform, M/M, Oral Sex, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-03-13 11:17:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 61,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13569468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AGDoren/pseuds/AGDoren
Summary: Michael Burham has it all an important and respected career, beautiful home, fulfiling volunteer work, loving family and friends. Only one area of her life is lacking. A child of two worlds she has always been a bit out of step with her peers, busy with work and career her love life floundered until a handsome, older stranger walked into her life.Please take a moment comment say hi, let me know you're out there. I read and respond to all comments. If you haven't already done so hit the subscription button to make sure you never miss an update.





	1. Meet Cute

**Author's Note:**

> modern AU, story is Archangel focused. There will be some appearances from Spock and Sarek along with Amanda, but they'll be fully human, so I'm not tagging for them at this time. Beta by KrisL who has several very clever fics posted on Ao3 that you guys should check out if you haven't.

 

Michael took a deep breath, fingers gripping the side of the podium as her stomach started to churn. She always got more questions than the other researchers; she was used to that. Mostly men, but occasionally women trying to trip her up or make her look stupid. Hostility towards women in scientific fields was common and of course even more common for black women, but the open aggressiveness in this man's posture unnerved her.

For the second time, she explained as carefully as she could, tossing in a little joke which got nervous laughter from the room and finishing with a smile. That should be enough. It wouldn't do to respond with anger or aggressiveness, not with the angry black woman stereotype always lurking in her shadow

"Your explanation doesn't make any sense. I don't know if you're stupid-"

Offended now Michael opened her mouth for a hot retort-

"It's okay buddy; her explanation makes perfect sense." A voice drawled and a dark-haired older white man, in a blue linen button down and jeans, with a well-manicured beard in the front row, stood. "Sometimes women are just smarter than us, its ok. Intelligence isn't really linked to gender or race or even their beauty." He winked at her on those words and Michael felt her mouth working as blood rushed to her face.

There were snickers from the audience.

"Thank you, Ms. Burnham, for your wonderful explanation some of us will reread the materials and listen to your presentation again at home, perhaps view your youtube." Whoever he was he crossed his arms, and the fabric of his shirtsleeves strained a bit across a well-defined bicep and turned his gaze on the heckler, who suddenly couldn't quite figure out what do next.

"Before you say anything other than an apology just know I can and will remove you."

The heckler looked from her to the stranger before finally sitting down.

"Good choice buddy. Ms. Burnham I do have a question about your remarks on the benefits of further studying tardigrade DNA."

"Of course Mr- um-"

"Lorca, Gabriel Lorca."

"Mr. Lorca we have still have about fifteen minutes please go ahead with your question."

Michael found her eyes going back to Gabriel Lorca for the remainder of the presentation. She couldn't help herself. She was used to hostile audience members at her lectures, and she always handled it, but no one in the audience had ever, stood up for her like that. She kept thinking she needed to make sure to thank him and to- maybe- she didn't know, but she needed to talk to him before he left. She also needed to keep an eye on the other man, the hostile one. Some men couldn't tolerate any form of embarrassment.

* * *

 

She gave her closing remarks, thanked the audience for the questions and left the stage for a brief meet and greet with anyone who remained. Mr. Lorca got in line at the very end for the meet and greet, and a slightly giddy feeling swept over her. The heckler didn't get in line, but Michael saw him standing near the presentation hall door, ignoring him she concentrated on her attendees.

They were all perfectly nice, some of them asked very brief questions about which magazines she was published in, and of course, they had something to say about how terrible and rude that gentleman was, but not a one of them had said a word when he was harassing her. That was common too, support after the fact.

Still, she forced a smile and a nod and thanked them for their attendance and told them what publications she was in and about her website and so forth every now and again shooting glances at Mr. Lorca whose blue eyes seemed to gleam every time she met them.

The line seemed to go on forever, the next to last woman especially babbling on and on about tardigrades and space travel and the future and Doctor Who and Star Trek and …Michael was a nerd herself, but she was also a nerd with other things to do.

"They say warp speed might even be possible now. Can you imagine? We just skip right over the whole cryogenesis form of space travel and go straight to lightspeed?"

"Perhaps. Wouldn't know I'm not a physicist or an engineer."  

"Right of course. I should probably lightspeed it out of here huh? Just before I go which publications did you say you were in again?"

Michael dutifully named them for the second time. Meeting Mr. Lorca's eyes over the woman's head as she jotted them down.

"You were really good, thanks again."

"You're welcome."

"Mr. Lorca," Michael stuck out her hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Nice to finally meet you, Michael Burnham."

Their eyes met, and that giddy feeling swept over her again. Mr. Lorca's hand was warm around hers, and it sent a frizzle of electricity along her palm as he met her eyes with a smile.

"Gabriel please."

"Of course,"

He was more handsome up close, eyes crinkling as he smiled.

Nerves followed the giddiness, and Michael found herself at a loss for words even though it was her presentation. He released her hand and Michael felt herself missing it already.

"I don't have any questions for you. I just wanted to make sure you had someone to talk you to your car or Uber or whatever in case your angry friend is still around."

Her eyes swept around the room, the angry guy had gone.

"I would have to call my brother, but you don't have to-"

"-I insist, southern boy in me unless you really don't want me to."

She was used to a certain amount of hostility, but from colleagues. The heckler's anger had seemed out of proportion to the situation. If he decided to harass -and being embarrassed might prompt that- she could defend herself handily. But the best way to defend herself was to avoid getting into a fight in the first place. The likelihood of that went down drastically if she had some company.

"No, it's fine. I took the train though."

"Metra?"

She nodded.

"Well let's go for a walk."

Michael grabbed her laptop bag, and they made their way out of the presentation hall. In spite of the several inches height, he had on her Michael kept up with him easily.

"So what do you do Mr. Lorca?"

"Gabriel please and I'm retired military, still trying to figure out what's next."

"Oh, so you just hang around molecular biology presentations rescuing presenters from hecklers?"

"The pretty ones at least."

Michael tutted.

"Aww, what about the ugly ones?"

"You know I never met an ugly person, just people who were under-appreciated."

He looked pleased with himself, and she had to bite her lip to keep from laughing.

"Nice save."

"Thanks."

"How much time before your train Michael?"

"Nearly an hour."

"The university has a new photography collection in North Hall, landscapes.  Have you seen it?"

Michael shook her head.

"Let's have a look shouldn't take more than twenty minutes, half an hour."

"Ok."

Although she had completed her undergraduate studies at the University of Chicago, Michael rarely got over to Hyde Park or the university much anymore. Having an extra hour to spend here on a spring afternoon was ideal. She'd reached out to a few friends, but they were unable to get away from work. Still spending the hour alone was acceptable. And now here she was with a handsome stranger that had rescued her from a heckler.

Of course, the handsome stranger could also be an axe murderer, and she was letting him lead her around. He didn't seem like a murderer, not with that southern accent or charm, and his arms looked very nice.

Michael felt herself smiling and tamped it down. He was probably just being nice.

Since she'd finished grad-school, she'd come into her own, developed more of a sense of style, plenty of men noticed her called her pretty, beautiful, gorgeous it still never amounted to anything.

"What are you thinkin' Michael?"

"How grateful I am that you were at my presentation."

"Well, you don't owe me anything, just doing what any decent person would do."

"By that measure, there aren't very many decent people around."

"Damned shame," he muttered.

They reached the end of the hall and he pushed the door open, holding it for her.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

There were halls, cafes, waiting rooms all over the campus with art on display from sculptors, painters, photographers. This room was lined with great, looming, landscapes, most of them in black and white that while gloomy at a glance were absolutely magnificent.

There was one of winter horizon on a clear night, the branches of the trees bare and skeletal intertwining like lace. Another of the Chicago River at night refreezing after a partial thaw the newly forming ice still thin and glistening atop the greater chunks of white like marble under glass.

But it was a six-foot by six-foot black and white photo of Lake Michigan on an overcast day the roiling lake and the heavy roiling storm clouds just before rainfall meeting on the horizon, silver and gray and almost indecipherable that Michael found herself arrested by.

"You like that one?"

"It's lake Michigan, but you don't think about Lake Michigan as a deadly boiling sea. Most people don't think of it beyond swimming in it during the summer, and they certainly don't think about its other forms, the clouds are just the lake in its  gaseous state hovering above us."

"And I just thought it was dramatic."

Michael laughed, and he seemed amused.

"So is this a hobby?"

"Photography or making beautiful women laugh?"

She looked away completely flustered now.

"I do some amateur photography, nothing like this."

"Which one is your favorite?" Michael asked trying to recover her equilibrium.

She followed him to another black and white on the far wall this one a pillar clock somewhere in the city covered in thick, heavy icicles, twisted to the side that had somehow frozen as the water washed over it.

She faced him, taking in his profile. He was not especially tall, but several inches on her, he wasn't especially handsome to her, but she found his clear blue eyes quite beautiful and he had a rugged strength, but without the roughness usually assorted with rugged maleness.

He was very compelling.

"Sorta lonely huh?"

"Yes I suppose so."

"It's like the one you like a little. The ice devouring the clock. Mostly we just put it in drinks, but its powerful here."

"It is."

His gaze shifted to her now. "What is it?"

"Retired military, white knight, attends molecular biology lectures for fun, amateur photographer, I'm intrigued, you're  a mystery, Gabriel Lorca. I think I want to know more." The last came out in a whisper, but in the silence of the room to Michael it went off like a bomb.

"You could always find out more at dinner?"

Her eyebrows arched and she felt her skin growing hot again.

"What is it the kids say YOLO, no-no,  it's shoot your shot now. What's it to be Michael?"

For a moment she was silent. She certainly wasn't used to random men picking her up and offering to take her out to dinner. Still, she had to say something, and she was more than just intrigued.

"Score."

 


	2. The V-Word

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> shout-out to KrisL for all her suggestions, thanks again.

"Sylvia," Michael called as she unlocked the door of her third floor South Shore apartment eager to share her good news. There was no sign of her roommate just her cats, Coca and Snowball right there at the door, vying for her attention.

Michael shut the door and crouched to greet them, scratching Coca behind his ears and while lightly stroking Snowball's fluffy belly. She'd never had a cat that liked having their belly petted before. The cat's names were misnomers, Snowball a fluffy black female with green eyes and Coca her  brother was a fluffy white male with blue eyes.

"So Sylvia isn't home huh'?"

Coca purred and butted her hand, stroking his cheek against Michael's outstretched fingers, while Snowball flopped back and forth with pleasure at her return. After spending a few minutes with the cats, Michael slipped off her shoes and jacket putting them into the hall closet before heading into the living room cats trotting at her heels.

Her apartment was one of those beautiful, old lakefront apartments found all over Chicago. Three beds, three baths, living room, dining room, butler's pantry off the dining room, high ceilings, gleaming honey-colored hardwood floors, brand new stainless steel appliances, marble countertops, gleaming cabinets.

As a molecular biologist she easily made enough money to afford an apartment twice as much in a trendier neighborhood, but she wanted to be on the southside.

It was big, too big for her, but Philippa had encouraged her to get it and a roommate. It would be perfect to host work functions.

_"It's right in the hood."_

_The older woman had shrugged._

_"If your guest take 67th and head straight up Crandon, they'll never notice, and you can still do your volunteer work. And you want to live here don't you?"_

_"I do, but my parents-"_

_"Will not like it, but just tell them to take 67th and head straight up Crandon."_

_Michael chuckled at that._

_"You can live for yourself Michael."_

In the end, she had taken her mentor's advice and gotten both the apartment and roommate.

There'd even been a few work functions.Mostly arranged by people who were not her, for all that she'd come into her own more as an adult she still did not like parties.  The irony of being the daughter of an ambassador and disliking parties was not lost on her.

The living room was drenched in golden, afternoon sunlight.  Snowball flopped down in a sunbeam, while Coca twined her ankles purring happily.

Michael watched her cats a small smile playing about her mouth as she stood in the living room soaking up the light and silence. She loved Sylvia, but the quiet that came with the other woman's absence was a balm to her soul.

For several minutes Michael let the emptiness of her apartment seep into her quieting her mind.  Her shoulders slid down, and a bubble of excitement stirred floating up, bringing a small smile to her lips.

After the photography exhibit, they'd made their way to the57th street train station. Gabriel continued to be funny and charming expressing his attraction for her in a way that was clear and direct without being objectifying or threatening. She liked it, liked him perhaps...It was too soon to tell she had no reason other than her own desire to think that even the first date would go well.

Frowning on that Michael started on her afternoon routine.

Bra off without bothering to undress as she made her way down the hall to her bedroom. Bra went into a little basket on the toilet tank; she'd wash it during her shower that evening.

Next stop her bedroom. It was a haven, cool, safe, soothing; welcoming her every morning and every evening. The room was done up in brown, slate blue and silver, soft muted colors with their own prettiness to them. She'd taken great care in decorating her room the walls were a soft silver gray wall with a delicate mural of a tree at the very beginning of spring the branches with only a few budding leaves and flowers, that she and Amanda had painted themselves. The same pattern beautiful in its stark simplicity stretched across her bedspread while a plush puff rug greeted her feet every morning.

A ceiling height bookcase stood on the wall furthest from the door filled with books and next to is chair and end table so she might sit and read by the light of the sun. A few pieces of carefully selected art hung on her walls and few little statues and figurines from her travels during childhood decorated the space.

It was a place of peace and stillness one that centered her life and supported her routines.

Earrings and necklace went into her jewelry boxes atop her dresser. Street clothes were hung or folded and put away,  traded for a pair of soft leggings and a t-shirt. Her bedroom was neat and ordered everything going so easily into its place that she could put her clothes away in the dark if she wanted. Coca and Snowball didn't even bother to enter, knowing the routine all too well. Michael hung her purse on its hook and headed for the kitchen.

She refilled Coca and Snowball's bubbler, made herself a mug of coffee and settled down in her office to work.

Her office continued the theme of her bedroom with the same muted colors a desk to work at, a loveseat to rest on and cabinets for any files or materials that couldn't be stored electronically.

Sitting on the love seat under the fading evening light Michael first she made notes on her presentation. Specifically the questions she'd been asked. She was thinking "What We Might Learn From Tardigrades" would be a good topic for a video. She would use the questions asked at the presentation for her focus.  After her notes were done she answered emails for thirty minutes, there were several for BGS- Black Girls Stem- an organization that she'd helped to start  to encourage more young black women and girls to pursue education and careers in science Emails answered she reviewed her schedule for work tomorrow and made notes to check-in with her colleague Paul.

She sent a couple of text messages including one to Sylvia asking when she'd be home. She didn't have any text messages from Gabriel, but she wasn't expecting them either. Boomers and Gen-Xer's  didn't text like that, besides she'd see him tomorrow night.

After that, she settled in to view the results and progress of the current studies in her lab. Michael got so absorbed with her work that she didn't look up until her phone rang at half past six.

Amanda's picture appeared on her screen.

"Hey, mom."

"Hey, sweetheart. You busy?"

"Just finishing up some work."

"You can talk though?"

"Yes, I need to start dinner actually."

Michael closed down her laptop and went into the kitchen, flipping on the light. She didn't cook much, she'd learned, but she her life was very full. It was easier to let someone else do the cooking most of the time.

"Good."

She set her convection oven to preheat and pulled the Freshly's tray from the fridge. While Michael waited for her dinner to warm, Amanda caught her up on her father and brother. Apparently, Spock was having some type of disagreement with Nyota so she might get a call from either of them soon.

Nyota Uhura was warm, bubbly and outgoing not unlike Amanda, but she had a cool side that Michael suspected was the key to her relationship with Spock.

The first time Nyota had called her for advice on dealing with her younger brother, Michael had been hesitant, but then she'd actually been able to help. Spock could be so willful and obtuse at times, and  it was clear that Nyota made her little brother happy. If the other woman called Michael would do everything that she could to help them settle their differences.

Once she was caught up on her family, Amanda asked after her work and presentations.

"I know your father thought youtube would be undignified, but I'm very proud of your videos are quite good, and people seem to love your channel."

"Thanks, mom."

"Now are you busy tomorrow night?"

Michael smiled almost instantly.

"Well, I have a date."

"Really, anybody we know? This is wonderful-"

Michael suppressed a groan. She was excited about the date, but her mother made it sound like it was some sort of miracle. She wasn't that hard up.

"I don't think you know him. He's from Georgia."

"Atlanta?"

"No, I don't quite remember."

"Well, what does he do?"

"He's retired-"

"Retired." Amanda latched onto that word, and Michael kicked herself.

"How old is this man?"

"I don't know. He's retired from the military mom. You can retire from the military as early as thirty-seven."

The timer on the oven pinged.

"If he's just seven years older than you that's not bad. Hmm. Is he cute?"

Michael winced inwardly she was going to regret letting her mother think Gabriel was only seven years older than her.

"Very handsome."

"Good, looks aren't everything, but they help, and you're such a beautiful and accomplished young woman, Michael. You could have a boyfriend or a husband even if you'd just put yourself out there."

The oven time pinged again, and Michael heard keys in the door.

"Listen, mom, my food is done, and Sylvia is home, and we have roommate things to discuss-"

"-Of course. We'll talk, take care sweetie, love you."

"Same, mom, bye!"

Somehow Sylvia's very presence filled up the apartment with noise. The younger woman was muttering to herself as she got out of her coat, she dropped a pile of bags and papers on the end table.

"Michael!? You home?"

"In the kitchen."

"Of course, of course, you are its dinner time." Sylvia declared making her way down the hall toward the back of the apartment.

"So how did your presentation go and what is your news?"

"I have a date."

"Oh my god that's great! Michael, I'm so happy for you."

"It's not that exciting. Is it?"

"Wellll I mean it has been a while and then there's your little problem."

Michael narrowed her eyes not needing a reminder of her problem, which wasn't a problem, anyway.

"Sorry, sorry. Tell me how you met this guy was he some hottie at the presentation?"

She told Sylvia about the heckler, Gabriel's intervention and how mysterious the older man was.

"How old is this man?"

"I don't know," Michael shrugged. "Fifty."

"Fifty that's almost old enough to be your dad. You don't have to settle for some old man Michael."

"If you saw this guy you would know I was not settling, besides," Michael shrugged.  "It's just a date."

"So when are you and grandpa going out?"

"He is not grandfather age."

"You're thirty which is old enough to have a five-year-old and he's old enough to be your dad, viola he is grandpa age." The redhead looked pleased with herself, and Michael pursed her lips in annoyance.

"I know you like to tease, but I'll have my revenge."

"Mhmm, when is your date?"

"Tomorrow night."

Sylvia tutted at that.

"What?"

"You gotta play hard to get."

Michael rolled her eyes.

"So even though I didn't have anything to do and wanted to go out tomorrow I should have said no and sat home?"

"Yes. We could have gone out, tell them you're busy and make it true."

Michael shook her head.

"I don't think that works."

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

"No, but neither do you."

Sylvia shook her head.

"Well, there's nothing to do about it now. Where are you guys going?"

"The Planetarium After Dark, apparently they have events there food, wine, etc...."

"Oh my gosh that could be so fun and so romantic and it's kinda nerdy. This guy really likes you."

Michael felt herself starting to smile. She had never thought much about dating older men, but there was something about Gabriel.

"You can look at the stars and the lake, and he can put his jacket on you to keep you warm when the breeze blows off the water." Sylvia's words were soft and dreamy, and Michael had to admit she did like the sound of that.

"Do you know what you're gonna wear? Ugh! No, let's go shopping let's go to Akira, I can't wear any of that stuff, but you're so tiny, it'll be fun."

Michael shook her head.

"It's a first date. I'm not buying new clothes for a first date I have plenty nice clothes, stuff I've never even worn, but I could use some help selecting an outfit."

Sylvia rolled her eyes.

"Fine."  

The two women went through Michael's walk-in closet putting together outfits, while make-up and hair tutorials played on youtube. In the end, Michael settled on a muted green, off the shoulder mini dress, with a blousey, draped top. They agreed that she would jazz it up with a shimmering gold bag, gold gladiator sandal, and bracelets.

"So you'll be looking fabulous, and you swear grandpa date is sexy, should we get you some condoms?"

"It's a first date, Sylvia."

"But its been a long time since you had a date and you seem to really like grandpa, so you know maybe just sleep with him take care of your little problem."

"It's not a problem."

"You're a thirty-year-old virgin who can't even relax with some casual sex from time-to-time, and it's just kinda hanging over you because guys are shallow jerks who run for the hills at the V-word."

Michael's only response was to roll her eyes.

"It's your life."

"How are you gonna do your hair?"

"Braid-out or maybe flat-twist out."

"Ohhh, flat twist do the flat twist. Your hair always comes out so fluffy when you do the flat-twist. You want me to help you with the parts?"

"Sure."

The two young women spent the rest of the evening hanging out in Michael's bedroom first spritzing her hair with water and then doing the flat twist. With her hair set, they practiced make-up tutorials while listening to music and chatting about work and school.

Later as Michael was sitting in her pajamas and robe, in her chair by the window trying to read, she couldn't turn her mind away from her so-called problem. As far as Michael was concerned it wasn't a problem. She didn't doubt that sex was enjoyable she understood the biological functions behind it and her scientist's training meant she understood what all those chemicals and hormones could do.

 _She masturbated, she cuddled, had made-out with guys, hell she'd made out with a girl in college._ She didn't doubt that it was pleasurable, but she couldn't bring herself to have sex with some guy just for the sake of having sex.

Perhaps she took it too seriously, but she'd met very few men that she interacted with in a way that made her want to be physically intimate with them. At one point she had thought Ash might be more, but that had not gone as expected.

Michael shivered remembering the hate in his eyes before he'd attacked her. The look alone had been enough to leave her feeling, hollow, wounded.She knew now that he hadn't been seeing her, but the person who hurt him. It didn't matter she couldn't go back.

The argument they'd had after she'd had him hospitalized had only furthered her resolve.

She rubbed her arms, calming the gooseflesh that rose at the memory and for a moment considered going and getting in bed with Sylvia. For a while, she'd had nightmares to the point that she'd taken to sleeping in bed with the other woman if she were in the apartment.

But she hadn't had nightmares for months maybe she could even have a phone conversation with him, perhaps.  She may not have wished to be a part of his life, but it didn't stop her from hoping that he would one day reclaim his life. He deserved that.

Michael rose and stretched, yawning and pulling in a lungful of air. It was time for bed. She slipped her bookmark into place and set it on the end table. She had a long day of work tomorrow and date with a man that intrigued her. She didn't need to be thinking about Ash.

She slipped her silvery robe off, hanging it on the hook beside her bed and turned the lamp off shrouding her bedroom in darkness. Almost the moment Michael settled under the covers, Coco and Snowball joined her, curling warm furry bodies in the crook of her knees and against her thighs.

"Goodnight kitties." Michael pulled her eyemask down and slept.

* * *

 

Hey everyone thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it. Plz take a moment to comment below let me know what you think or if you find anything confusing. Also feel free to stop by my tumblr and say hello: https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- Hey everyone thanks for reading. I wanted to get this out sooner, but lost a day reading Drastic Measures, the new tie-in novel, definitely recommended for PU Lorca's backstory and the ending.


	3. His Shot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First date pt. 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey friends, season one of Star Trek Discovery is over. What did you guys think about the finale? Did you love it? Did you hate it? Did you find it to be completely underwhelming? For me the finale was underwhelming, overall though I enjoyed the first season enough that I'm planning to watch season two as well and I'm feeling some hope about Prime Lorca showing up as well. 
> 
> Absolutely none of that was about this chapter. Michael and Gabriel first date from his POV. At my beta's urging, I am adding a disclaimer that views expressed by the characters in this fic are not necessarily the views of the author. Kris_L thanks so much for betaing, she's great take a moment to check out her Star Trek Disco fic.

Gabriel spotted her before she spotted him and for one breathless moment all he could do was stare and take her in. Her dark hair was soft and cloudy around her elven face. He'd never imagined that army green could be sexy, but the shoulder-baring dress, draped and billowing at the top, short and tight at the bottom, made him swallow with anticipation. Was she wearing a bra? She'd have to be bra-

He cut that thought off right there. She was a brilliant scientist who dressed like a million bucks; he wasn't going to drool at her like some twelve-year-old boy, even if those sandals of hers made it look like her legs went all the way up to-

A gust of warm air off the lake stirred that cloudy hair and Gabriel signaled to her, making his way down the planetarium stairs and through the crowd to meet her.

"Sweetheart,you're an absolute stunner. Never knew army green could look so damn good."

"Thank you, Gabriel." She ducked her head for a brief moment, and he smiled at that unexpected shyness.

"Let’s get away from the crowd." Without hesitation, Gabriel steered her through the crowd, one hand in the middle of her back. A sweet, soft perfume wafted off her hair and skin, and Gabriel found he wanted to drink it in. He held the door for her as they went in and once they moved away from the crowd, she turned to him expectantly.

"So what are we doing first?"

As she turned those big dark eyes on him, Gabriel froze. _Had he really brought this gorgeous young woman to look at a telescope?_

"Gabriel?" She touched his forearm with gentle fingers, raising goosebumps at the contact.

"Sorry, been a  long day.  Sky show starts in fifteen minutes, dinner's at seven, and when it's dark, we can go up to the telescope."

She smiled at the last, easing his nerves a bit.

"Well, let's go to the show then." Another smile.

"Alright."

Following the signs for the show they made their way to the theater. The show that night was in the IMAX 3D, ‘Lights in the Sky,’ about comets and meteors - shooting stars. While Michael was looking up at the screen, Gabriel found himself watching her, waiting for her reaction, and hoping for that first delighted smile. He had come to planetarium when he'd first moved here as a tourist and loved it, but locals sometimes didn't appreciate the things found in their own backyards.

He swallowed his nerves; the light show started, that first delighted smile broke out over her face, and right then and there he relaxed.

* * *

 "They did not have all this when I was a kid."

"What was it like?"

"Dull, dated, boring."

"Why did you to come?"

"You sounded pretty excited about it, and I knew they had redone it, so I figured: why not?" She shrugged, an easy, graceful movement that drew his eyes to the slope of her shoulders,

"You ready for dinner? If you liked the show, you're gonna love the cafe, Michael."

He was right about her loving the cafe. For the After Dark dinner events, the Galileo Cafe was transformed into a glowing ethereal spacescape.

The walls of the cafe were glass windows set with white beams allowing diners to look out at the lake and sky. During After Dark the lights were dimmed to a soft blue that reflected off the white beams to cast a soft glow over the entire cafe. The tables were set with cloths of shimmering soft purples,  tea lights adorning their tops added to the warm, ethereal atmosphere and Chinese lanterns hung from the ceiling like orbs.

Michael's gasp of surprise and the delighted smile that blossomed on her face were a welcome reward to Gabriel.

"Wow, I've never- this is just really beautiful. I'll have to bring the girls here."

"Girls?"

"I volunteer with Black Girls STEM."

"I've heard of it."

"You have?"

"When I first moved here, I looked into the different volunteer organizations. Didn't have much to offer that one, but I like to think I don't make a half-bad big brother."

"Really."  Michael looked impressed as if she wanted to ask more questions, but the hostess appeared to take them to their seats, halting the conversation. Seated, Gabriel ordered a glass of red wine for himself and Michael started off with water.

"They've made this place elegant and beautiful."

"What was it like when you were a kid?"

"Dated, very 70's. Everything was brown and orange like a cafeteria. The sky show was slides, and it just wasn't fascinating or inspiring like it is now, it wasn't-" she stopped short, and Gabriel felt his curiosity pique.

"Wasn't what, Michael?"

"It-it did not make me fall in love with the stars; it didn't stir up any wonder or curiosity as it does now."

"It kinda does, doesn't it?"

She nodded.

"Oh and they had this god awful Star Trek exhibit."

"Star Trek exhibit?"

She nodded. "You don't like Star Trek, do you?"

"You mean Bill Shatner being a ham all over the place? I am in conntrool! It’s terrible, never liked it - pretty sure the ham acting was to make up for how boring it was."

"Oh god yes, Shatner is the worst 60's acting at its finest. It’s awful, even the new ones are bad. My roommate Sylvia loves it. She got me to sit through a couple of episodes."

"Bad?"

She grimaced.

"I like science-fiction, but Star Trek is- the science is bad. The old shows were dull, and it's military but peaceful - that's suspicious - and this new one- The one thing that recommended the old shows is this idea about hope and a better vision of humanity. This new one does not offer that. It's violent and bleak."

"You know a lot about this subject for someone who claims she doesn't like it." Gabriel challenged with a smile.

"A number of my colleagues’ interest in science started with Star Trek, so I have to hear about it."

"Got it. Like MASH or China Beach - inspires people to join the military."

She gave him a quizzical look, and he told himself to steer away from pop culture references she was too young to remember or even know about.

"You were saying?"

"I've just heard its praises sung over and over again and it's a shame about the new one because the lead is a black woman, but I can't let the girls watch it. I may not think much of it, but if it could give the girls someone to look up to and encourage them to pursue STEM fields, I could appreciate that."

"Makes sense. This came up from time to time during my service, getting more women into different fields and how those fields were benefited by them, and there's always a benefit, whether it's as simple as differences in thinking or approaches to problem-solving or,” he chuckled, “smaller people fitting into smaller spaces. In my experience as a tactician, any weakness that a female soldier has because of size or strength is easily balanced by a strength that she has that a male soldier didn't."

Michael nodded.

"Yes, exactly."

The waitress came back for their orders, and they decided they should probably look at the menus. Once the appetizers and dinner were ordered, the pair resumed their conversation.

"I feel like I took your moment from you."

"What do you mean?"

"With the heckler. I have a pretty good feeling you can defend yourself, but bullshit like that works my nerves. He was fucking with you because you're a woman and what kinda backward assed shit is that??? Anyways I'm sorry if I overstepped."

"Well, you're right. I can handle myself, but I didn't feel that you overstepped." Those dark eyes met his again, and there was something soft there that tugged at every protective instinct he had. "I was grateful."

"I can handle myself. Even if that guy had harassed me afterward, I could handle myself. I've been taking martial arts since I was twelve, jr. world champion at seventeen, I keep fit.  Get down to the gym to spar two days a week. I could have handled him."

"Shit, sounds like maybe you could kick my ass."

"Maybe," she shrugged. "Maybe we'll have to spar one of these days."

He smiled at that.

"So yes I could have handled it, but you know what- why would I want to? Why would I want to deal with that? I have been standing up for myself since I was twelve years old. I get harassment like that all the time, and frankly, it just feels good to have someone else speak up- not just because it spared me having to do it, but because it feels good to have someone else in your corner even if it's for just a few minutes."

"You deserve it Michael,"Gabriel said as he felt that protective urge intensify.

Their appetizers came then.

"Well, you did me a favor, saved me from myself."

"How's that?"

"I was about to snap."

"He deserved it."

"He did. I get a lot of rudeness my colleagues don't get, and I've gotten used to handling it, but when that man had the unmitigated gall to call me stupid at my own presentation, it made me very angry. Usually, you know the wink, the smile, it plays to their egos, and they calm down, but I got very angry with the way he was acting, the way he was talking to me."

"With reason, anyone would have been angry -you're a human being, you deserve respect. "

"Well of course, but you know I'm black-"

"-I hadn't noticed," Gabriel said with a wink. "I thought all that lovely dark skin was a deep, deep tan."

She started smiling again.

"If I get angry at something very reasonable I'm not viewed as a person with a right to their anger though, I'm "an angry black woman" and people get offended, and they complain-"

"-It's a whole thing."

"It is. It can mean not being invited to speak, a reputation as a hot head or worse, difficult to work with. It can follow you. Especially if people already think you're intimidating."

"Only the weak and the foolish would be intimidated by you, Michael."

"So what do the strong and the smart think?"

"The strong and the smart find you compelling, almost irresistibly so."

She froze, and he kept a careful eye on her. She flustered more easily than expected. At first he'd thought maybe she wasn't used to being complimented, but he was starting to think that wasn't it not exactly. Compliments didn't seem to make her uncomfortable just uncertain.

Gabriel sat back and saw her relax a bit.

The waitress came with their food then, setting heavily loaded plates down in front of them. The conversation focused on their meals for a moment as napkins and eating utensils were arranged.

The easy conversation resumed as they ate. He learned that she loved cats, had never had a dog, lived most of her life in Chicago and later in its nearby northern suburbs with an adoptive family, but had traveled a good deal as well. He wanted to ask more about the adoptive family, but it was probably a painful subject, so he let it go for now. He certainly wasn't at a point where he wanted to talk about Anthony or Ava even if they'd passed years ago.

For his part he talked a bit about his naval career, hobbies and some of the places he'd traveled as a young officer.

The conversation was easy and fun. She had a sharp mind, a dry wit and apparently a mean poker face. A question about previous relationships seemed to make her nervous, not in any very noticeable way, but her hands tightened, and he knew it was a subject she did not want to discuss. So they moved on.

They talked a bit about the differences between life in Georgia and Illinois and especially a city like Chicago. When she asked why he'd moved there, he told her that he'd had a chance to live nearby down at Grayslake and he'd always loved it. There was a lot he missed about the South, but the active vibrancy of Northern cities had always appealed to him. They ate and talked and watched the sky fade from blue into pink, orange and soft warm purple before black, lake Michigan changing colors with the sky.

"I'm gonna have a drink- you  want dessert."

Michael studied the menu, head cocked to one side, and Gabriel let his eyes linger on her. The graceful length of her neck, delicate collarbone, and her hand dainty and beringed holding the menu the light and shadows from the tea lights flickering on her skin. She'd make quite a subject.

And since he was watching her he saw her face light up rather suddenly as if she'd just had a thought that pleased her. Something told him the appraising look she turned on him did not mean anything good.

"What?"

"I've never had any of these desserts; I'd like you to pick."

"Michael," Gabriel narrowed his eyes, almost certain it was some sort of trap. "What are you up to?"

She shrugged.

"I just want to see what you pick."

"Alright." He looked over the dessert menu and picking his choice the moment his eyes landed on it.

"That one." Her only response was to arch one eyebrow.

The woman had a damned good poker face. He had no idea what she was thinking.

"Yeah. Delicate, nice combination of sweet and tart flavors, hot and cold and nice flaky pie pastry."

"Opposites."

"Yeah."

The waitress returned then, and Michael looked at him an expectant smile on her face.

"I'll have an Alexander, and the lady will have the apple crostata."

"I'll have those right up for you-"

"Wait, that apple crostata- that's like an apple pie a la mode right?"

"Yeah," the waitress said with a nod.

"Good. That's actually my favorite."

"Then I'm sure you'll love it."

The waitress walked away, and Michael sat back clearly amused by her little joke.

"You know what, woman."  Gabriel leaned forward, closing his hand around her fingers, resisting the urge to give her hand a playful swat, choosing instead  to caress the pads of her fingertips with his thumb.

"What?"

"I'm gonna have to keep an eye on you."

"I hope so." She said and then very gently pulled her hand from his. "I'm going to the ladies' room."

He watched her walk away, green dress snug across her rear, a small smile playing about his lips. At one point she had to ask a waiter where the restroom was, and every movement was easy and graceful, the way she held her wrist, the unconscious primpingof her hair while the waiter directed her, she was a knock-out. He took a sip of his whiskey wondering how it was even possible for her to be single.

He kept his eyes on her until she was out of sight before signaling for the check. The waitress, a very sharp young woman, had it ready, pulling a black folder from her apron pocket.

"Don't go anywhere."

There was, of course, no question of Michael paying. Gabriel took a quick glance at the tab, gave the young woman his credit card.

He'd seen Michael Burnham on YouTube, found her videos in an attempt to help Jake, his little brother, with his science homework. His only plan had been to kill a couple of hours at a lecture given by a dynamic young woman. It certainly hadn't been to take that young woman to dinner. Though in all honesty, he had to admit that he probably already had a tiny bit of a crush on her from her YouTube videos alone.  

Gabriel reached into the  pocket of his jacket, a small smile playing about his lips. He did a quick check, making certain that the contents - two fortune cookies that he'd grabbed on impulse before leaving - were still intact.

* * *

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- Hey friends thanks for reading. The Adler Planetarium in Chicago is a real place, as is the Galieo Cafe and The After Dark events. They did redo it recently, it was lame before. As far as I can recall they've never had a Star Trek exhibit there, but TOS is included in their history of space travel exhibit.


	4. Date, the 1st, 2nd Half

Michel laughed and surveyed the the people waiting for the Doane Observatory telescope. There were still a few people ahead of them in the loosely scattered line.

"That was pretty funny." She said touching his arm. "Tell another."

"Let me think a moment."

After finishing dinner the pair had walked the short distance from the planetarium's main building to Doane Observatory sitting right at the water's edge. A crowd of loosely scattered people lingered in the observatory waiting to use the telescope. The staff, a few younger people in blue t-shirts and polos, moved about explaining the telescope and what they could expect to see tonight.

The Doane Observatory housed the largest and most accurate aperture telescope open to the public in the midwest. The building was a small circle, built around a telescope, the floor covered with cheap gray carpet and the walls a dull beige. Photos of various outer space phenomena like the Horsehead Nebula and the Whirlpool Galaxy and the Leo triplets decorated the walls. At the center of the building was a big white telescope.

"Alright, I've got another one for you." The amusement in his face was clear and Michael, already amused, smiled in anticipation.

"So this actually happened to me."

_"We had just got sent to bed about an hour ago. I'm wide awake and staring at ceiling cause it's still first phase I'm afraid to move from the position of attention-"_

"-Wait you were at attention in bed?" Michael could barely keep from laughing as she tried to imagine a younger, scared Gabriel in his bed at attention.

"Yes I was, I had heard a lot about how TI's especially liked to pick on officers in basic."

"Okay."

_"So I hear the Drill Instructor hatch open and I look over -and there's not a lotta light, just the light from the hall- and all I see is his pointy cover stick out of the door, about a foot off the ground. The TI is low crawling on the floor, straight for me, like some kinda big, angry, bald spider, skittering across the floor."_

"Oh my god." Michael pressed her fingertips to her lips to hold back laughter.

_"So I'm looking around now to see if anyone else is reacting to this, they aren't. So he comes straight to me and I'm staring at the ceiling again, my rack starts to sink from his weight. He gets right up in my face whispers in my ear:_

_'Hey Lorca, wake up.'_

-"And I just look at him, cause he knew I was awake _right?'-_

_"Y-yes sir?"_

_"Fuck you Lorca. Goodnight bitch."_

She started laughing on the word "bitch" unable to hold it in any longer.

"So I say the only thing I can: _"Aye sir. Good night sir"_

_He then climbed down and low crawled back to this room and slammed the door._

Michael let out another peal of laughter and Gabriel's laugh, a warm rich chuckle, joined hers.

"God, were they just ridiculous on purpose?"

"Actually, yeah, a TI told me that once, after I'd been a captain for a few years. They want trainees to believe they'll do just about anything so they just pull the most ridiculous pranks and trust me, you believe."

His expression was so emphatic that Michael found herself laughing again. He smiled indulgently, eyes crinkling at the corners in the most charming way.

"I'm just glad my suffering amuses you."

"It did, but any more and it will ruin my eye makeup."

"For the sake of your eye make-up then, no more stories."

"Thank you."

The person who'd been using the telescope climbed down the ladder and a tall, light-skinned young woman, wearing a staff t-shirt, and short dark hair climbed up the ladder.

Conversation fell silent as she started speaking.

"Hi everyone my name is Christine. Tonight, stargazers, you're in for a real treat. Earth is in a perfect position to see Saturn, its rings and moons close and clear. In addition to the full moon there is also a comet passing through Saturn's orbit. Like most comets, the tail of this one is made of rock and ice, however this particular rock is an usual shade of red casting a an orange glow on the gas giant so we're getting quite a show. The comet itself has moved out of range of the scope, but you can still see the effect of it passing through Saturn's orbit."

The young woman climbed down and let the next viewer go up.

"You know, it really seems like you loved it, why did you leave it?"

Gabriel stroked his beard while considering his answer and Michael's eyes followed the movement.

Perhaps it was because her father had often had a beard, but well-groomed facial hair on a man always appealed to her. It made a man look like, well,a _Man,_  grown, mature, adult, at least to her. Gabriel's was trim, tidy, well cared for, nice and full. She found herself wondering if it was soft.

"The navy may have been my life for twenty years - a lot of folks thought I should stay with it until retirement age - but I suddenly wanted to join the landlubbers."

He met her eyes then.

"When I was a kid, I was excited about the travel, the ships, the camaraderie, but I lost that somewhere along the way," he shrugged. "Since I didn't have to stay, I decided to get out do something else with my life."

"Like photography?"

He nodded.

"That, work in the civilian sector, live someplace for more than a year. Do what I want? Sleep in?"

"Do you, do what you want?"

"Ha, I still get up at five in the morning, take Buran out for a run, jog."

"I love running, it's a great way to keep fit, start the day off right. It certainly looks like it pays off."

It did. He may have been out of the service for nearly a year now, but he was still lean and fit. Michael could see that even in his white linen suit. His shoulders were nice and broad, waist tapered. He looked good, the blue button-down he wore under his jacket bringing out the clear blue of his eyes.

Gabriel smiled, eyebrows arching, clearly surprised and pleased at the compliment.

"Well thank you."

"You're welcome, you should come running with us one morning."

"Us?"

"Naval buddy Hugh and Buran."

"Sure, might be fun." Michael liked to go for her runs by herself, it helped her to think and feel focused. Still, she might enjoy Gabriel's company some mornings.

Just then, the person at the main scope finished, and it was their turn to view the night's main event.

The landing for the telescope was just large enough for one person. When the person ahead of them finished Christine motioned for them to take their turn.

"Ladies first," Gabriel insisted.

"Thank you." Michael looked at the other young  woman. "Do I need to do anything?"

"Nope, just look through there."

She peered through the telescope and her breath caught. The normally colorless Saturn seemed to glow a bright orange, the light of the comet coloring its many moons, and suffusing the rings with their own glow. It reminded her of one of those atom structure models brought to life in breathtaking fiery 3D.

For a long moment, she just stared at the planet picking out the lines of demarcation in its bands as the red-gold glow of it seeped into her memories.

"It's beautiful," Michael said we she finally looked up from the telescope.   _How did one ever let forget that the universe held wonders like this?_

* * *

 

"I think this has to be the most fun I've ever had on a first date," Michael said.

"The most?"

He grinned and looked away, and Michael wondered if he weren't perhaps blushing a bit.

"I must admit I had some reservations, especially when you showed up looking like such a knock-out."

"Why?"

"Shallow of me, I guess," Gabriel said holding the door for her. "But when you showed up I thought to myself, ‘pretty girls don't want to look at telescopes.’"

They stepped out into the night,  exiting onto the far side of the circular building and at the farthest point from the street the planetarium sat on, but just a few feet from the water's edge.

"Should we go out the other side, back towards the planetarium and the street?"

"No," Michael said looking out over Lake Michigan. The surface of the lake was black with night but the moonlight fell upon it like rippling waves of molten silver.

"I have to work tomorrow, but it’s still fairly early. I'm in no rush; it's a beautiful night. Let's take the long way around."

Michael pointed to the concrete path that circled the building and the shallow steps that allowed one to walk down the lake or a small beach just behind the planetarium itself.

"Alright."

They started back towards the cul de sac that the Adler Planetarium sat on, where Michael could eventually summon an Uber and Gabriel, she assumed, would make his way toward the Planetarium’s parking to find his car. It was quiet here, just the two of them and the lake, the grass and a few trees. The Chicago skyline, its bright lights twinkling on skyscrapers, shone in the distance and you could look up and down the lake's shore if you wanted.

"So what do the pretty girls do?" Michael asked.

"Back on the spot."

"I'm curious."

"Well, it turns out the prettiest one I know likes astronomy displays and telescopes."

Michael shook her head in amusement.

"As much as I love Chicago, it seems kind of a shame that the city lights have taken away the natural lights."

"Probably one of the few things I don't like about the city. In the country, at least when I was a boy, summer nights went on forever. No one worried, parents didn't lock the doors. You'd walk into your backyard, and the stars were right there, and the fireflies weren't endangered back then, so there'd be hundreds, maybe thousands of them, so you had the stars on the ground with you, and the stars in the sky."

"You miss it."

The path grew dark here, trees overshadowing the lamps along their route.  The narrow walk came to a sudden and abrupt end and Michael let out a yelp, backpedaling right into Gabriel as her feet stepped in cold wet grass.

His hands settled on her hips, slowing her backwards momentum.

"Sorry, it’s grass I think, wet grass. I didn't realize."

"You're alright."

Michael fished her phone out of her purse, but Gabriel was ahead of her. The light of his phone showing the walk ending in wet, muddy grass. Michael snorted in annoyance and the hand on her hip moved into the small of her back as Gabriel turned toward the stairs leading down toward the water's edge and the beach. The light from his phone doing little to dispel the darkness cast by the shadows of the trees obscuring the shorter lamps along the path.

"I suppose we'll go that way."

Michael frowned for her response, letting her annoyance with the situation show in her expression.

"Do you want to go back the other way?"

She considered the idea of doubling back around or the almost direct angled line that would put them right in front of the planetarium.

"No, just a second though." Michael activated her phone wishing she hadn't deleted the flashlight app she'd downloaded.  It wasn't enough. The light of their phones disappeared almost completely once they were directly under the trees. It wasn't far, but Michael found herself a little nervous walking where she couldn't see.

She was just about to say something to that effect when her foot came down on something in the dark.

"Shit!"

Her right foot went out from under mid-step and suddenly Michael was fighting to regain her balance and avoid a nasty meeting with the concrete. She grabbed for nearest upright thing, Gabriel, and felt a flood of relief at his arms strong and steady and under hers. For a handful of seconds she held onto him, grateful that she was still upright and intact.

"Thank you."

"Of course, let's get where we can see."

The stairs went all along the water's edge, making a circle around the observatory. They walked a few feet in the direction they had come until they were standing again in the moonlight. Gabriel kept hold of her hand and she did not complain.

Michael was close enough to him to smell the warm, rich scent of his cologne he was wearing and she liked the feeling of his hand around hers, warm, strong, dry and when she looked down at their two hands his was nearly large enough to eclipse her own.

"Let's sit a moment," she said.

"Ok," he smiled.

They sat down on the concrete steps, still warm from soaking up the day's sun. He had to relinquish her hand to sit and when Michael settled next him she found she missed it immediately.

"You don't swear much." Gabriel said and Michael frowned.

"What brought that up?"

"Just an observation - not on your YouTube and not since we met, until just now."

"Not appropriate for an ambassador's daughter and not exactly acceptable with the rest of the nerds so it's just habit," Michael shrugged.

"Did you ever rebel? I'm no ambassador's daughter, but I know something about expected behavior."

Michael shook her head.

"In the beginning I was too busy being grateful and then later too busy proving myself to rebel."

The breeze blowing off the lake picked up then, cool and stiff, tugging her hair forward and leaving an array of coils hanging in her face. Michael used two hands to tuck them back behind her ears, noticing Gabriel's regard as she did so.

"What?" She asked even as an errant coil sprung free to dangle itself directly in her line of sight.

"May I?" He asked, expression one of wonder and curiosity.

He caught the corkscrew curl between his index and forefinger, stretching it a bit to run his thumb along its length before tucking the wayward coil in with her sisters and ghosting his hand along the cloudy mane of her hair before setting it a moment on the nape of her neck

"I take it you've never dated a black woman before."

"None with hair like yours." He replied casually.

And the look of wonder in expression transformed into something more earthy as his hand moved in one long caress across her bare shoulder and up the column of her throat to catch her chin between his thumb and forefinger, his intent plain.

_He was going to kiss her and she was going to let him._

Her tongue snaked out across her lower lip in anticipation.

His lips found hers not a moment later, warm and soft, a brush across her own, awakening sensitive nerves, sending a familiar, but long unfelt signal to her brain. _She liked it, liked him_

And then he was lifting his lips from hers, that first kiss a mere taste, brief and fleeting.

Michael opened her eyes and saw him gazing at her. His eyes dark and heavy-lidded, attention fixed wholly on her. _She knew that look._

Her uncertainty swarmed back up to the surface, along with Sylvia's suggestion that she use him to fix her _"little problem"_ , but she'd have to tell him about ' _her little problem'._

He leaned in to kiss her again and Michael pulled back. Not in a cute way like a woman in a romcom who didn't quite yet want to be kissed, but in a hard and almost embarrassingly firm way. Gabriel sat back, obviously confused himself. Feeling acutely embarrassed, Michael stood up and walked away, fingertips pressed to her lips.

She'd only managed a few steps when Gabriel came up behind her.

"Michael." She stopped, but didn't turn, certain she was betraying her inexperience in clear and obvious signals.

"Michael." He tugged her arm turning her towards him. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine." She said, not looking at him.

"Did I misread back there?"

"No."

"It's been a long time since I had any complaints about my kissing and, uh, I haven't had any garlic tonight..."

The hint of humor in his voice made her look up.

"Your breath is fine, just a little cinnamon and whiskey."

“Ok."

She could hear the prodding tone in his voice.

"And the kiss," she looked up at him, biting down on her lower lip even as a smile tugged the corners of her mouth upward into a smile.

"The kiss was nice, more than nice."

"So."

"It's our first date." She blurted out her mind coming up with a better explanation for her behavior than _'I just feel like I don't know what the hell I'm doing and I panicked.'_

"Ahhh," he started to grin then, smug and self-satisfied. "So it was too nice."

 

She gave a slow, reluctant nod and Gabriel looked altogether too pleased with himself.

"Why don't we finish our walk?"

Still wearing his pleased smile, Gabriel put his hands in his pockets and they started back toward the planetarium.

"How did you get into photography?" she asked, wanting anything to take her mind from her embarrassment.

"Got into it when I was a kid." His eyebrows arched, betraying a faint hint of surprise. "My parents got divorced when I was ten. I was angry, didn't even really understand how angry I was, and this was a big deal back in the 80's, especially in the South."

They reached the street then and Gabriel, sighting a bench, suggested they have a seat.

"I took it out on the other kids." He said looking away from her. "They were happy, or at least it seemed that way. I was unhappy; the world wasn't fair. They needed to know. I ended up getting suspended from school, which was for the best, ‘cause I met my first mentor, Terry Green. He showed me a better way to express myself. I started with drawing, eventually moved onto photography."

"I'm sorry about your parents."

"It was years ago and no worse than any other family."

They sat in silence for a while. Most of the people had gone, the planetarium was closed and the little cul de sac it sat on was mostly empty.

"When I went to live with my adoptive parents, I was so angry. I didn't realize it at first. Sarek, my adoptive father, got me into meditation and martial arts."

Gabriel faced her, resting one arm on the back of the bench, his body angled towards hers, expression attentive.

"The meditation helped?"

"The martial arts helped."

He smiled at that.

"I could hit people as long as I didn't hit them too hard. It was physical, so I could burn off all that energy, and it required discipline and focus. But it wasn't enough. I think I went in the opposite direction that you did. I threw myself into my studies, into learning and doing well."

"Did it work?"

"I think so. I graduated top of my class in high school, same in college, and got my dream job."

"Dream life?"

"Yeah."

Michael fell silent then, frowning at the turn of her thoughts. Uncomfortable with the sudden idea that the anger of her twelve-year-old self had dictated the last eighteen years of her life and perhaps that twelve-year-old hadn't made the best choices.

"What is it, Michael?" Gabriel shifted position so that he was facing her directly. She could see a mixture of concern and curiosity in his eyes.

She shook her head.

"It's too somber for a date; we've been having fun."

"As you like, but if you want to talk about something I'd be happy to listen."

She looked at him squarely now - his blue eyes, his beard, that congenial smile.

"I-I-" She fell silent, not at all sure she wanted to have an existential crisis about her love life on their first date.

"Here," Gabriel held out his hand two fortune cookies in clear plastic wrappers sat in his outstretched palm.

"Where did those come from?" She asked grateful for the distraction from her somber thoughts.

"My family manufactures them."

"Oh."

She plucked one of the cookies from his palm.

"You go first," she said.

"Alright."

_Sometimes you just need to lay on the floor._

They both looked down at the sidewalk before snickering.

"Not today."

Michael opened hers, fumbling a moment with the plastic before the pulling the cookie free. It took a second to split the cookie to produce a puzzling fortune:

_Trust is key._

"That's a disappointing fortune." She handed the slip to Gabriel. "Did your family manufacture these? If so, I need to lodge a complaint with the owner."

She could see his lips pursed to hold back laughter.

"What's your complaint, ma'am?"

"Well, that is a very disappointing fortune. I already know the value of trust. I wanted to learn my future from a free cookie."

Michael chuckled, and Gabriel did the same, the pair sharing a brief laugh.

"This really has been the most fun I've had on a first date. I should head. I have to get an early start on my day tomorrow." Michael said fishing her phone out of her purse.

"Of course - I'd be happy to drop you off."

"Thank you, but the Uber drive is just a few minutes away."

Michael sat her phone down on the bench.

"I had a really good time." She said meeting his eyes.

"Good. Is it too soon to ask you out again?" He smiled his most engaging and Michael fought the urge to say yes right away.

"I've been advised that I should play hard to get." Michael in a teasing tone.

"Who's giving you this advice?" Gabriel gave her a look of mock offense.  "I don't like this person."

"Awww, my best friend is really sweet."

"I'm not dating your best friend, Michael."

Michael laughed in spite of the sliver of possessive jealousy she felt at the idea.

"You better not be." She said, a hint of harshness creeping into her tone.

It was Gabriel's turn to look amused.

"I thought you were playing hard to get. Where's that poker face you told me about?"

She feigned a moment of shock and schooled her expression into one of complete neutrality.

"Damn, that's pretty good."

"Thank you," she replied, keeping her blank expression.

"So, Saturday?"

Michael kept her blank poker face on and watched uncertainty creep into his expression.

"What would we do?" She asked the question in a monotone.

"Dinner, movie, there's an art festival in Hyde Park this weekend."

"That sounds like it could be fun." She said, still keeping her carefully neutral expression and tone of voice.

"So that's how you're going to play it?"

"Play what?" She asked innocently.

"Ok."

Gabriel stroked his beard a moment before moving closer to her on the bench, his hip and thigh pressing against her own, the contact electrifying. He settled a hand over the hand in her lap. Her poker face cracked, eyes widening as he leaned in close. Then he surprised her by pausing and letting his eyes take a deliberate and leisurely tour of her face before dropping them to give her an up-down.

 

When he met her eyes again they were dark with naked desire and adoration that sent pulse of arousal went all through Michael and she let that magnetic pull draw her toward him. It was the end of their date after all.

Her eyelids fluttered shut; his lips found hers and the hand in her lap slid round to grasp her hip.

Their kiss at the edge of the lake had been soft, sweet. This one was anything but. There was an instant heat at the touch of his lips. He nipped her lower lip, and she opened her mouth for him, letting his tongue - hot, wet and velvet - slip into her mouth.

Taking her opportunity, Michael reached up to stroke his beard and found it soft to the touch as he closed a hand in her soft fluffy hair.

His kiss felt so damned good. The sensitive nerve endings in her lips stirred to greedy wakefulness while his tongue hot and soft stroked her own.

Her phone buzzed then.

The Uber driver. Michael found herself tempted to send them away and sit right there doing what she was doing. It was Gabriel who broke the kiss. For a long moment, she stared into blue eyes darkened with lust.

"Your ride?" He asked voice low and gravelly.

"Yeah."

"Saturday?"

"Mhmm."

Gabriel captured her hand before she could pull it away and pressed a kiss to the center of her palm, blue eyes locked on hers the entire time. A pulse of pleasure went all through Michael's pelvis and his kiss left a tingling spot on her palm.

He stood, pulling her up with him.

She had just enough presence of mind to grab her phone before he walked her to her cab.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it took me a whilte to finally pull this chapter together, sorry for the delay. I hope you guys found it both funny and romantic. I'll be posting chapter five soon. Remember I love and reply to all comments. Please don't forget to subscribe or bookmark so you get immediate notification on updates.
> 
> In the Navy drill sergeants if you will are called TI- trainee instructors and that story while ridiculous is absolutely true.


	5. Coffee and Dancing

For the second Saturday in a row, Michael found herself sitting in Gabriel Lorca's car talking when she was supposed to be going up to her apartment. After a great second date last Saturday that involved dinner and a play and ended with him driving her home and kissing her on her doorstep, they'd barely seen one another.

The results from a one of the larger studies had come back over the weekend, and that meant hours poring over data and a week of late nights. With the exception of two very brief and unsatisfying lunch dates, their interactions had been limited almost entirely to text.

Michael shifted in her seat, and smoothed the skirt of her little black dress. She caught Gabriel's eyes lingering a moment on  her legs and black lace tights. Amused she pretended not to notice and continued with her point.

So it was no wonder that they were still sitting and talking now past midnight.

"You know Gabe, I just really like talking with you," she couldn't help but smile.

"But," he glanced at the clock. "It's that time?"

"I think so," she chuckled.

"Alright." Gabriel got out of his car, a black Mercedes S-class with gold detailing, and came around to her side to help her out.

She had not expected a retired Navy captain to be driving an expensive luxury car.

He kept hold of her hand as he walked her to the door.

They kissed, quick and sweet, almost chaste and even that made her lips tingle. He broke the kiss caressing her cheek with the back of his hand.

"Goodnight Michael,"

"Goodnight."

She unlocked her door, and Michael stopped suddenly, feeling inspired.

"Gabe, why don't you come up? I could make us some coffee."

He seemed surprised, but grinned and followed her up to the third floor.

Coco and Snowball were right there at the door like always but stepped back upon sighting a stranger. Michael flipped on the light and put her purse and keys on the foyer table before slipping her pumps off. Gabriel followed her example, and their shoes went side-by-side in the closet.

Coco and Snowball,wanting nothing to do with the stranger, retreated into the living room the moment Gabriel entered, fluffy tails disappearing under the couch and behind a bookcase.

"I'm going to put food down for the cats.  Do you need anything?"

"Bathroom?"

"This way," Michael started down the hall. "This one is the guest bathroom."

"Thanks."

Michael made her way down the hall and into the kitchen. Sylvia's door was open, bedroom dark. The other woman was out. Michael pulled it shut and went into the kitchen. She replaced the cats’ water, checked their food dishes and surveyed the kitchen.

There were dishes, not a lot, in the sink. Sylvia had obviously eaten and left, planning to do the dishes in the morning. Sighing, Michael put away the dishes in the dish drainer.

She hadn't washed the coffee pot this morning. She may as well wash-up the few dishes in the sink along with it - it wouldn't take more than ten minutes.

Things were going well with Gabriel. He hadn't been pushy or too aggressive. He touched her a lot, but mostly her hands, or her arm, maybe her waist. Their kisses, while heated, went no further than that, he didn't grab anything or put his hands where they didn't belong. She wasn't even worried about the differences in their races, really.

His ex-wife, Ava, had been black. When they'd gone over to Promontory Point - a trendy new restaurant in Hyde Park - for dinner, he hadn't been intimidated by the largely black crowd or even the dirty looks he'd gotten from a few black men.

There would be cultural differences of course, but she didn't have to worry that he was just trying something different or if and when things got serious he would back out because interracial dating even in 2018 was still harder than it should be.

Last of the plates put away, she started on the dishes, hair falling into her eyes as she leaned over the sink.

She was a bit worried about the differences in their ages, but perhaps that was a good thing. It's not like she was a 20-year-old girl, barely out of high school. Perhaps his abundance of experience could balance out her lack of experience.

"How big is this place?"

Michael looked over her shoulder to see Gabriel standing in the kitchen doorway, one hand rubbing his beard as he surveyed her kitchen.

She let her eyes linger on him. He was so easy on the eye. He was wearing a short-sleeved blue pullover that made his eyes look incredibly bright while the short sleeves left his muscular arms bare. She'd never been impressed by blue eyes really, but on Gabriel, she liked them a lot, or maybe she just liked him a lot.

He met her eyes, and for some reason, she thought of a cat. Like he was asking for something without words. She understood it when cats did that. People were harder, they asked for too many things.

She turned her attention back to washing the dishes.

"Didn't mean to pry. I got turned around."

"That's easy enough to do. All the doors look alike, and some of the rooms don't come out where you'd expect. You might as well keep my company since you're back here."

Gabriel closed the distance between them to lean against the counter while they talked.

"Places around here are huge and old, they have things like butler's pantries, and all the bathrooms are attached to a bedroom - you can go around in circles. It was sort of fun when Sylvia and I first moved in, popping in and out in unexpected places. Hand me the spoon rest - it's on the stove."

"Sure. Didn't expect to find you in here washing dishes. How big is this place?"

"Fourteen hundred square feet."

"Mind if I ask what you pay?"

"Nope, 1100." She answered with amusement, knowing exactly where this was going.

"Damn."

Michael chuckled.

"What's funny?"

"What are you paying? Like 2000 for your place and it's smaller. I've seen your place it's nice, but you're feeling a little cheated now huh'?"

“A little."

She laughed again.

"Don't feel bad, yours is in Hyde Park and mine is like hood-adjacent."

He frowned at the “hood-adjacent”, uncertain how to respond since they both knew what “hood-adjacent” meant on the south side of Chicago.

"Hand me that glass, please."

He picked up the glass and Michael reached for it, hand damp, soap bubbles clinging to her fingers. Her fingertips brushed his, sparking a familiar electric current.  Gabriel met her eyes and caught her wrist in his other hand. He set the glass down rather than handing it to her.

"That's enough, don't you think?"

"I-"

Michael froze as Gabriel slid his hand up along her arm and then around her waist to pull her body flush to his, his touch leaving a trail of teasing sensation on her skin.

She gasped and swallowed, savoring the feel of his strength, his hand stroking her hip, her backside against his crotch. He felt good. He smelled good, a mix of cinnamon breath mints, that warm, woodsy cologne he used and his aftershave mingling pleasantly, making her want to breathe deep and stay in his arm.

"I'm so glad you invited me up, Michael."

Gabriel stroked her hair aside, baring the back of her neck; his fingers were gentle on her skin, his touch lingering a moment on her sensitive nape. Michael shivered, and a moment later she felt his lips there, warm and soft. His other hand stroked her hip.

"You smell like heaven, sweetheart."

Another kiss, the tickle of warm breath on her ear, a gentle tug of teeth on her earlobe. His hand settled a moment on her chest, thumb stroking her collarbone and then he turned her around. The hand on her hip anchored her to the counter, and his other hand moved up to cup her cheek.

"Michael, darlin'." The words were whispered, reverent heat from cinnamon flavored breath.

HIs lips found hers for a hot, demanding kiss and she moaned into his mouth as his hand slipped into her hair to cradle her head. She sighed, deepening the kiss.

_He was just so-_

Still clutching the dish towel in one hand, she ran the other over his chest, feeling firm muscles underneath the soft cotton of his shirt.

His kisses moved to her cheek, down her neck, as Gabriel ground his hips against hers. Michael moaned aloud now, body rocking against his of its own accord, and she felt a gush of wetness at the press of his hard-on against her crotch. God, she was ready for him already.

That thought cut through the heady fog of pleasure building around her.

"Wait."

"What?"

Michael pushed at his shoulders, stopping him as he leaned in to kiss her again. She pushed him further back, creating space and letting cooler air circulate between their two bodies.

"Wait for what?" His hand was still on her hip, and he looked as if he wanted to devour her, and at least a part of her wanted to let him.

"I need to make the coffee." She whispered.

Gabriel frowned, clearly confused.

"Coffee?"

"Yes."

"You meant an _actual_ drink of coffee?"

She saw him focus on the bag of coffee beans, the mugs and coffee grinder sitting out on the counter, all waiting.

"Yes, what did you think I meant?"

"Well,shit." He took another step backward and looked away from her, running a hand through his hair.

Michael found her eyes inexorably drawn to his crotch and the visible bulge clearly outlined by his jeans. There was another gush of wetness between her thighs. She clutched the kitchen towel tighter and tore her eyes away focusing on the wood grain of the cabinet behind him.

He looked at her finally.

"I thought you meant coffee-coffee, not coffee." He finished with a grimace and a shrug. And that was when it dawned on her.

"You thought I meant sex?"

* * *

Thanks for reading, the usual notes follow. If you aren't already you guys should head on over to FF.net and read Zuzu'sPetals fic [Bite.](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12829362/1/Bite) It just finished recently and it was great we got two Lorcas and lots of smutty goodness.  
  
  


 

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always thanks so much for reading. I'm having a lot of fun with this fic. It's slowly building toward the promised sexy-  
> times and smut. 
> 
> I read and respond to all comments so take a moment to say hi, I'd love to hear what you think. Don't forget to bookmark or subscribe so you don't miss an update. You guys are the best.
> 
> quick notes- South Shore apartments really are that huge and 100% awesome. I had one very much like this one sans updated kitchen. Coffee and dancing much like Netflix and chill are both euphisms for sex.


	6. Unicorn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel learns something about Michael that he can't quite believe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is like the longest chapter yet and I just kept wanting to add in more little details. Ugh! Anyway I hope you like it. Don't forget to comment and say hi! Thank you all for reading, you guys are great.

_"You thought I meant sex?"_

"Yeah, that's usually what people mean at this hour," Gabriel explained.

"They do?"

He looked down at the kitchen tile, she hadn't been exagerrating when she said missed out on social queues.

"Did you really think I wanted to drink coffee at midnight? Do you think anyone really wants to actually drink coffee after midnight?"

Michael considered that.

"In retrospect that makes sense. I feel kind of stupid now."

"Don't, don't worry about," Gabriel shook his head. "What did you invite me up for?"

"Well we were having such a good time I didn't want the night to end, but I just wanted to talk. Maybe play cards."

Gabriel looked at her in her mini-dress and stocking feet, toes of one-foot curling under, hair mussed, lipstick gone and the mix of hopefulness and uncertainty in her expression and groaned inwardly. What he wanted right now was a date with his hand, but Michael was so damned cute and sweet. He found himself saying the exact opposite of that.

"Make the coffee Michael."

Her face lit, and he could almost feel the rise of her spirits; she radiated, a touching mixture of happiness and relief so that Gabriel found himself returning her smile.

"Just give a few minutes by myself, up front."

"Of course."

Alone in the living room, Gabriel slotted his iPod into Michael's stereo and, careful not to put the music up too loud and put on a little 80's pop. Nobody had a problem with 80's pop right? Music playing he scanned the room looking for anything to take his mind off the extremely sexy woman in the kitchen.

Gabriel had to admit he was confused. He was almost certain she was into him. That seemed clear from her behavior. She started to respond, but then froze or panicked like on that first date.

He had long passed the age where sex was the most important thing he wanted from a woman. What he wanted from Michael was that she share her wants and needs with him.

He told himself to relax, not to do something like adjust his dick while thinking about her mini-dress, or la how good she smelled or the way she'd moaned when he pushed up against her. Gabriel groaned and scanned the living room looking for a distraction and settled his attention on the mantle above the fireplace.

_Fireplace, he shook his head, this really was a great fucking apartment._

There were pictures of Michael from what had to be her master's graduation, and then pictures that he guessed were of her and her adoptive family. What were their names? Amanda, Sarek, Spock?  Weird names. There was one of her with a slender, medium complected woman that looked like a model.

Michael got progressively younger in what he decided was a parade of pictures until he came dead center and there was a picture of her at twelve-years-old with what he assumed were her birth parents. She wore braces, glasses and a huge grin. She was holding a trophy, and there was a banner that read state of Illinois science fair. Apparently, she'd won first place. What a cute kid.

He studied the photo she seemed so happy, maybe even her happiest. What happened? All he knew was that Michael was a adopted. What happened to the Burnhams?

He finished the parade most of the pictures were of Michael with her mother, but there was one of her parents together in formal wear with an exceptionally nice frame. He decided to ask her about it.  Michael got progressively younger in her photos until her first-day picture. She was a surprisingly pale infant though her eyes were still dark and she had a head full of dark curls. After that was her parent's wedding picture and then prom?

_High school sweethearts?_

Picture parade finished he settled on the couch, no longer feeling the need for that date with his hand. Gabriel looked around a bit more.

He hadn't been paying much attention when he'd come in, his attention had been focused on Michael, now though he took in the whole room, the bookcases on either either side of the fireplace filled with a variety of books, the chocolate colored couch with blue and silver throw pillows, coffee table, plants on either side of the couch, sculptures on display, art on the walls, gauzy silver sheers, hanging over the vertical blinds.

It seemed familiar somehow and after a moment Gabriel realized that he'd seen this room before in her YouTube videos.

YouTube video essays, lectures, talks whatever people called them were something he'd gotten into since leaving the military. He'd always had a keen mind, but you could study just about anything with YouTube for free or the cost of an ad. Now that he was out of the service he finally had the time for other areas of interest. So in addition to the art classes he was taking Gabriel spent his time on YouTube. It was a great resource for just about any  topic.

If you had curious mind you could lose hours  clicking every other suggested video and felt like you'd taken courses in Roman military history, Introduction Physics and the use of the Cintique in modern art production.

Michael, to his way of thinking,  was one of the more talented contributors.

He was considering heading back into the kitchen to ask her about it when he spied Coco -no Snowball watching him from a few feet away. Snowball, was the black cat, their names were a misnomer.

He leaned down and held out one hand.

"Come here Snowball." The cat approached him, low to the ground keeping her green-gold eyes on him as if he were not at all trustworthy.

She sniffed his outstretched hand and palm, making a circuit of his fingers before moving her attention to his legs and feet.

"You smell dog huh'?"

She looked up at him a moment before continuing her investigation.

Feeling a sudden urge to win her over Gabriel scanned the room for cat toys or treats. He didn't know much about cats, but he had a feeling the rod with a string and some colorful puff balls covered in tinsel on the end had to be for the cats.

He lifted the toy catching Snowball's immediate interest. Her ears pricked forward, pupils widening. He dangled the toy out of reach and very suddenly understood why people were interested in cats. The animal launched herself into the air and caught the dangling toy mid-flight as if were nothing.

There was a little bit of tug of war and Cocoa came out from wherever he'd been hiding to watch. Michael reappeared just then with two coffee mugs, her dress, and stocking traded for one of those velour tracksuits that had been popular a few years ago in a deep black, her dark hair tied back with a ribbon.

"Here you are."

"Alright, Snowball. I'm trading the toy in for some coffee."

The cat sat down at his feet staring up at him.

"She likes to play."

"So she's going to sit there staring at me hoping that I'll play some more."

"Pretty much, that's cats in a nutshell. Staring at you while hoping you figure out what they want."

Gabriel sipped his coffee.

"Perfect."

"I remembered how you liked it."

"Thank you, Michael. I looked at the pictures there. Your parents were high school sweethearts?"

"That was the plan, but they split late in their freshman year of college and reconnected near the end of junior year. My dad moved schools to be with her."

"Wow, I hope you don't mind my asking."

She shook her head.

"Not at all. They adored each other; we were happy together. I wouldn't have their pictures out if I minded talking about them."

"Right." The majority of his pictures of Anthony were tucked away.

Snowball surprised him by standing up on her hind legs, patting his knee with an outstretched paw. He looked to Michael for an explanation of her cat's behavior.

"I think she's decided she likes you."

"Oh." The cat patted his knee a couple more times and then jumped up into his lap. She made a couple of circles in his lap before settling.

"You can pet her behind the ears or under the chin, her face especially, but less vigorously than with a dog and cats, generally speaking, do not like their bellies rubbed."

"Ok." Gabriel stroked the furry, little green-eyed beast behind her ears and she closed her eyes.

"You're doing good there."

Snowball settled they returned to the conversation.

"What were your parents like?"

"They both worked, but they made time to make us a family. Mom was interested in everything, but dad was intensely focused he could tell you everything about his field. We still ate dinner together most nights, and we had a family outing once a month."

He smiled, it did sound nice.

"What were your parents like?"

"Both are alive; you already know they divorced when I was twelve. I don't remember them being very happy. I think they were when I was still very little, but in most of my memories, the strain was already present. Mom gave up her career to be a homemaker and dad worked, a lot. I think she resented him."

"Does fortune cookie manufacturing take up so much time?"

"No, but dad decided we needed to diversify,  supply more than fortune cookies."

"And establishing a new market takes a lot of time."

"Yup."

"And you have no interest in that?"

"My only interest in cookies is eating them. Is it obvious?"

Michael looked at something over his shoulder, and Gabriel turned his head to see the white cat, Coco, standing on the back of the couch sniffing him. The animal retreated a few steps to the end of the couch and sat watching him with wary blue eyes fluffy tail tucked around his paws.

"Coco is pretty grumpy, but he'll make friends with you eventually. As for you, it's a bit obvious. You didn't have to join the navy, and you're here, and they are there. It's pretty clear you want to be your own man."

Gabriel nodded, it was obvious, but he was still somehow impressed at the deduction. Most people picked up on the fact that his family must have money, fortune cookies were one of those things that no one thought about buying, but they were as ubiquitous as breath mints, oyster crackers and vanilla wafers, and graham cracker crumbs. Most people couldn't quite imagine that someone would walk away from family money.

Snowball shifted in his lap, and looked up at him, blinking sleepy green-gold eyes.

"She wants you to stroke her cheek."

Michael demonstrated, leaning into stroke the animal's cheek with her index finger.

"Most people assume that something terrible must have happened to make me walk away from the family business and money-"

"-But nothing terrible happened." Michael looked up her dark eyes meeting his with understanding.

"Not with my family. We've got some problems, but-"

"-But you just wanted to figure out who you were away from them."

"That's a big part of what joining the Navy was about and then life just took me in its own direction."

Michael sat back a frown on her pretty face.

"What is it?"

"You don't strike me as the type to let, the currents of life if you will simply push you around. I mean you're here in Chicago. Wouldn't it be your fate to be married to some big-haired southern bell with bleach blonde hair, while supplying cookies to Panda Express?"

Gabriel couldn't help, but chuckle at her description of his fated life.

"I'm not that type of person, but  we're lying to ourselves if we think all of our choices are our own made, free and clear. Look what we're really doing is just selecting from a handful of decisions, made based on the decisions people before you -most of whom we don't know and don't care about us- made."

He stroked Snowball's cheek the way Michael enjoying the silky softness of the animals fur and the suppleness of her whiskers even as the cat leaning into the caress.

"They're still your own choices."

"They are, but," he paused leaning toward her. "Terry Greene was an important person in my life. I can say without exaggeration that him getting me into art and photography changed my life. If I hadn't met him, I don't know, I might have kept right on doin' what I was doin'. My parents were too busy with their own stuff back then. I probably would have gone to juvie or maybe not because my parents' money, but my life would have been very different. I wouldn't have gone to the Navy, you would have gone off on that heckler." He gave her a wink then. "Different world."

Michael smiled.

"I guess I better send Terry a thank you card at Christmas."

Gabriel chuckled.

"But seriously, you don't think you would have turned your life around?"

"Not without some outside help. I was a kid, my parents weren't able to reign me in me. I was too angry with them. I probably would have straightened out eventually, but at what age and after what kind of trouble and how? I would be a different person. I was angry, I felt ashamed of the divorce, my parents were fighting a lot. Terry stepped in, gave me a means for expressing my feelings and doing something fun. I could have learned boxing or writing or I don't know anything," he shrugged. "But the point is Terry changed my life and I had no control over that."

"But doesn't that illustrate the power of choice, if not yours than Terry's."

"I don't think so. That at the time when I need it most I met exactly the person I needed to turn my life around, seems more than coincidence."

MIchael shook her head.

"We'll have to agree to disagree on this one."

Gabriel drank more of his coffee and the conversation moved on. Michael asked for more naval stories and soon he had her laughing again. First a snicker that if he were funny enough evolved into something loud and free of any hint of self-consciousness so that her dark bottomless eyes sparkled and he could admire her free and unguarded for just a few breathtaking moments before that poised reserve resurfaced.

Their conversation moved on, mostly light and easy sometimes serious. When they were yawning more than laughing or talking Gabriel decided he'd better head home. Michael saw him to the door. It was 2am and he was supposed to meet Hugh for a run at 9 am. Gabriel shook his head as he left her three-flat wearing a wry smile, he was too old for this.

* * *

 

"Somebody had a late night."

"Yeah," Gabriel muttered tone grumpy.

"But a bad one."

"Nah, I'm just too old to sit up all night talk and then go for a 9 am run on a Sunday morning." Their weekday runs were at the crack of dawn on Sundays they took it easy.

"You could cancel."

"Nah, Boo needs the exercise."

"Boo?"

"Yeah so," Gabriel shrugged.

Michael had bestowed that nickname last Saturday, when they met at the Hyde Park arts festival before going to dinner.

The doctor had served under him for a time in the Navy, and while they hadn't gotten a long initially, they'd developed a mutual respect for one another after a particularly rough tour that had eventually turned into a friendship. He'd even been at the other man's wedding, along with Ben, Kira, and a few others.

Like a number of them who'd been over at Grayslake Hugh had eventually settled in Chicago, taking a job at the University of Chicago hospitals when he'd finished in the military.  

Now they met a couple times a week and went running when the weather permitted. Today's weather was good for running. Mild, clear, a breeze off the lake. He wondered briefly if Michael was one of those people who'd go running rain or shine, 100 degrees or minus 10?

Gabriel had stretched before leaving his apartment and considered the walk over the park as his warm-up. He assumed Hugh did the same.

"You ready?" Hugh asked.

"Yeah."

They started running, at an easy jog Boo trotting alongside them.

"Sitting up late talking sounds like things are going well."

"Not sure, it's kinda weird, this woman is confusing."

"Weird, confusing how?"

"Well everything, I just can't figure her out. She just-" Gabriel shook his head.

"What's weird though?"

"Well sometimes she looks at me like she wants to make a move or wants me to make a move and I do, and it seems ok and then she just sort of freezes, not like she's scared or doesn't like it." He remembered the way she'd moaned and pushed up against him last night. "She just... it’s a weird hesitance."

"Just got out of a bad break-up?"

"No. She's been dating on and off for a while now, nothing serious."

"Well scientist usually aren't social butterflies. I would know."

"Yeah, I've met your husband, that's an understatement. This woman is nothing like that. She doesn't have one of those three-month rules or anything either.

"I don't know man. This is why I don't date women."

"Well, you don't date anybody."

Their run took them over to  41st street, where they headed back. Their conversation dying as they picked up speed, before finishing where they'd started walking a couple of minutes for their cool down. Gabriel had a collapsible dish that he filled with water froma fountain for Buran. The malamute could overheat easily in the warm weather. 

"So socially awkward, offered coffee at midnight and actually meant coffee, freezes, but no bad break-up and grew up in an all-white neighborhood."

"What does growing up in an all-white neighborhood have to do with anything?" Gabriel sat down on a bench and sipped his water.

"It's something, children and teens exclude people who are different from them sometimes intentionally, sometimes unintentionally, so you don't have the same experiences as your peers."

"Okay, not a great experience, but what does that have to do with us?"

Hugh started to grin as if he were incredibly amused.

"I'm saying you better leave that woman alone you're gonna fuck her up."

"Cause of our races?"

"No," Hugh looked rather pointedly at his crotch. "Cause that is a weapon she is not ready for."

Gabriel chuckled.

"While I appreciate the compliment what exactly does this have to do with Michael being weird?"

"She's a virgin."

Gabriel frowned in confusion entire face scrunching up in disbelief.

"This is a brilliant, sexy, thirty-year-old woman."

"So."

Gabriel pulled out his phone. He'd taken a number of pictures of Michael. Some with his film camera, but he also had a few on his phone.

"Look at this woman; this woman is not a virgin."

Hugh took the phone.

"She is a knockout. Cute face, nice long legs, no ass, nice breast."

"Hey," Gabriel took his phone.

"Not being gross, just observation Gabe. How many degrees does she have?"

"Two."

"Micro-biologist, head of her department, has her own condo. How many languages does she speak?"

"Three. Wait a minute I didn't even mention the language thing."

Hugh shrugged.  "Well-traveled over-achiever, of course, she's multilingual."

Gabriel rolled his eyes.

"She's a unicorn."

"A unicorn."

"Yes, an extremely attractive person who for one reason or another has never had sex or fallen in love."

"Yeah, but she's just brilliant, it's not-"

"Gabe, my friend the sun is brilliant too, most people look away from the sun."

* * *

 

The walk from the park to his apartment was and pleasant, another lakefront trail with Buran alongside him.  He passed runners and bikers and kids out playing. A few women gave him friendly smiles, while other people eyed Buran suspiciously, the large dog making them wary despite her calm demeanor.

Gabriel considered Hugh's theory as he made his way back home.  Whatever he thought about it, Hugh's theory fit with what Michael said about herself.

She hadn't dated much, didn't fit in with her peers, didn't know how to flirt. He shook his head as he thought about it. It made sense; he just found it difficult to accept that a woman as passionate, beautiful and brilliant as Michael hadn't gotten laid and Michael was a sexual being. Her body communicated that plainly, hell he'd smelt in the close confines of his car once.

He had no experience with inexperienced women. Even the first time the woman had been older and more experienced, she'd been using him, but that was something else. Kat, Ellen, Ava none of them had been virgins. Kat and Ellen had come onto him. Things had been different with Ava, it had seemed natural to pursue her.

After the divorce, there had been a few flings, one night stands, even a serious relationship for a while. Each woman was different from the last, but Michael was wholly unique at least with him, and he was a strategist in all things, he liked to have a plan.

Gabriel reached his apartment complex, doorman pulling the door open as soon as he saw him.

Hyde Park Tower apartments was one of the more modern apartment building in the neighborhood. He'd chosen the building primarily because it was right off the park and near the lake. He did love the city, but growing up in the country and then spending months at sea had given him a taste for green spaces. Eventually, he planned to buy a house and maybe have a garden, Buran would like it.

Once inside he grabbed his mail, and after concluding he wasn't too wiffy Gabriel stopped in the first floor grocery store. One of the perks of the building were the retail spaces, grocery store, cafe and dry cleaner all in the building. It was more expensive than the other grocery stores in the area, but he could bring Buran in, and no one would complain as long as she behaved.

He passed the cashier as he entered a friendly dark-skinned woman in a hijab and greeted her with a wave.

He grabbed eggs, milk, bread, pasta and considered the situation as he shopped.

She had said that she didn't meet very many men that she liked and that of those even fewer stuck around. He had the sudden thought that he wanted to be the one she liked, the one that she chose to share that part of her life with. He wouldn't use her the way Rachel had used him.

He stopped at the the little  deli picked up some cold-cuts and salad.  It was getting a little hot for cooking. He and Charlie, a tall young man with curling blonde hair, discussed the basketball playoffs. Chicagoans he'd learned were still pretty enamored of the old Bulls dynasty and held out championship hopes no matter how well or poorly the Bulls played. They could all tell stories of finally beating the Detroit Pistons at the play-offs and advancing to the second round of the championship.

Gabriel thought they should be happy with their six world championships, in the fifty years the Hawks had been with Atlanta they hadn't won a single title.

Done at the deli he grabbed the cheddar and caramel popcorn he'd promised Reggie,  the boy he mentored and headed to the register.

Gabriel made his purchases, Michael on his mind.

If she chose him for her partner, he would be patient, attentive, and considerate. He'd encourage her to savor the fresh newness of each experience.

He could picture it, the surprised pleasure on her face, that cool exterior she projected to the world dissolving into orgiastic ecstasy.

By the time he reached his door Gabriel's dick was good and stiff in his pants. He put away his few groceries, filled Buran's water and food and headed for the shower.

Gabriel stripped out of his track shorts and tank top and stepped under the hot spray of the shower. Still thinking of Michael, the way she'd ground up against him and moaned in his ear, or the unexpected scent of her arousal filling the confines of his car as he'd driven her home after their second date last Saturday, he started to stroke himself.

Long, easy strokes at first from the root of his dick up to the tip and back as he focused on that moment in the kitchen, and took it further taking her to bedroom, worshipping her pretty body with his mouth until her cunt was dripping and pulsing with pleasure and she was moaning and writhing at his touch, his beard tickling her silky thighs as she clutched at his hair.

He stroked himself faster, the pressure building, not yet though-

He'd sink into her warm, wet, welcoming but only when he'd gotten her worked-up so that her cunt was plump and hot with arousal and she was begging him to give her relief.

Gabriel slipped his other hand down between his thighs to stroke his balls, adding another source of pleasure and he felt that familiar grip of desire low in his belly.

He could see her under him, lost in the grip of pleasure, silky thighs wrapped around his waist, nails scoring his back as she lost control. He knew what she'd sound like as she moaned in his ear and clutched him riding the wave pleasure to satisfaction,

"Christ!" Gabriel bit his lower lip and stroked the length of his dick faster. Ready to let it go now he palmed the head of his cock body at last tensing with an orgasm that held on for just a few seconds, but felt like forever as he shot a load of white down the drain as he leant against the tiled bathroom wall.

* * *

 

Thus ends chapter 6. I hope you liked it, thank you so much for reading. Please take a moment to comment and subscribe or bookmark so you never miss an update.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	7. Thursday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael is feeling a bit insecure in the aftermath of the coffee kerfuffle

Michael checked her phone. Seeing no missed calls or new text messages she sat it on her desk, laying it on its face so she'd be less tempted to look at it, and told herself to get back to work. It had been a while since she'd made a new YouTube video and she was supposed to be coming up with ideas. Her ringer was on, and there was nothing wrong with her phone; Gabriel would call when he called.

In spite of the fact that she'd gone to bed far, far later than her usual time, Michael had awoken around 9:00 a.m. to a room flooded with golden sunlight, mind fully alert. Since there was no way she was going back to sleep, she'd gotten up, showered and had a light breakfast.

She scrolled through her newsfeed looking for inspiration. Coco dozed in her lap while Snowball sat on the desk, tucked into a kitty loaf, watching her with drowsy green-gold eyes.

Gabriel was probably sleeping or busy. He hadn't left until 2:00 a.m., after all, it wasn't even eleven o'clock yet.

She managed another two minutes before checking her phone again. No missed calls, no text messages. Of course she hadn’t missed an alert, because it was right in front of her and she had the ringer on. Disgusted with herself, Michael considered turning the phone off and hiding it to put it out of her mind.

It wouldn't worry her that he hadn't called, except they hadn't made plans for a third date - fifth if you counted the lunch dates - and every other time they'd been out Gabriel had always made it clear that he wanted to see her again, soon, and tried to get her to agree to another date.

"It was late; he was probably tired." She muttered to herself. "That makes sense right?"

She directed the question at Snowball who meowed for reply.

 _Or he doesn't want to be bothered with a woman that won't sleep with him._ He wouldn't be the first.

She looked back at her work, but the scene played out in her mind.

_"You thought I wanted to drink coffee at midnight."_

She could mediate, she should meditate-

She heard the creak of floor boards in Sylvia's room. Was her roommate up? The younger woman had come in late, but she might be up already. Michael put her computer to sleep and got up, dislodging Snowball in the process.

She made her way down the hall, savoring the warmth of sun-warmed floorboards beneath her feet. She stood outside Sylvia's door for a moment, listening for sounds of movement, before knocking gently.

"You up?"

"Yeah, come in."

Michael opened the door. The other woman's room was decorated with bright florals in lavenders and pinks, very pretty.

Sylvia was sitting up in bed reading, bright red curls cascading down her back.

"Morning."

"Good morning." Sylvia looked up from her reading, smile faltering when she saw Michael's face. "What's wrong? Come, sit down, tell me what happened."

Michael sat down next to the other woman and told Sylvia all about the coffee confusion and how they'd sat up talking until 2:00 a.m.

"Well, that doesn't sound bad."

"No, but he left without making plans. He didn't even say if he wanted to go out again. Gabe's never done that."

"But like you said, it was late, he was probably tired."

"I know, but he hasn't sent me a text message or anything."

"He's probably still asleep."

"He could be."

"Look," Sylvia said, tone firm, "If this guy drops off the face of the earth because you didn't sleep with him, he's a jerk that you don't want to be bothered with anyway."

"Easy for you to say - you're not a thirty-year-old virgin."

Sylvia snorted.

"You think I put out with everybody that I go out with more than once. I have discriminating taste."

"With your soldier fixation?"

"The point is, guys only being interested in you for sex is still a problem you'd have to deal with. Besides, I thought you didn't think being a virgin was a problem."

"Until it is a problem."

"Girl, are you saying you would have slept with him if you weren't a virgin?"

Sylvia stared at her in wonder and Michael ducked her head, not for the first time grateful for a complexion that hid her blush as blood rushed to her face.

"I might have." Michael bit her lip as she remembered the way her whole body seemed to respond when Gabriel had pressed against her, making his desire known.

"Well, why didn't you anyway?"

"It seems dishonest. I haven't told him and what if I'm bad at sex? And it hurts the first time-"

"-The first few times."

Michael grimaced.

"It would hurt, so then he'd notice, and then he'd realize I was a lying, thirty-year-old virgin and that would be humiliating."

Sylvia stared at her, eyes wide with disbelief, and then she laughed.

"You're laughing!" Michael stared at her friend in horror. "I can’t believe you're laughing."

Irritated, she got up to leave, and Sylvia stopped, swallowing back her laughter.

"Wait, wait. Don't leave," The other woman said, getting out of bed. "I'm sorry, I know you're serious, but when you do finally have sex, you'll understand why I laughed. That said, I know this is important to you and I'm sorry, really I am, and I promise I won't laugh again."

Michael eyed her friend a moment before sitting back down.

"Listen, you're thinking about this way too hard. It's sex; it's not that difficult. You're a woman, so you can get away with letting him do all the work the first few times. You don't have to tell him if you don't want to and he probably won't even notice, it's the same for them either way. But if the guy likes you -and it seems like this one does- then you should tell him because he'll want to make it as good for you as possible and he'll be gentle with you."

What Sylvia was saying made sense.

"But as to why you knocked on my door?"

"Yes?"

"I really do think you're right, he's probably just tired, but have you messaged or called him today?"

"No."

"Text him- wait, he's old, call him."

Michael frowned at the flutter of nerves the suggestion induced.

"I don't know. What would I say?"

"Hi, Gabriel, it's Michael. I just wanted to say hi." Sylvia smiled. "Just like that?"

Michael bristled a bit at Sylvia's condescending tone, but didn't torn between the fear of what she felt was an almost inevitable rejection and an intense desire for reassurance, to know that everything was OK.

"Well, you can sit here stewing in your own anxiety and self-flagellation, or you can take the initiative and call him. He's called you, scheduled all your dates so far; he'll appreciate some effort on your part."

"You're right, you're right."

"Good, tell him you were working and you're taking a break. That way you can keep the conversation short if you want."

"That's a good idea."

"Good, go call him. I need to study." Sylvia held up her tablet. "Wait, dial his number and then leave. I want to make sure you actually do it."

Michael rolled her eyes but pulled out her phone and despite her increasing nerves, forced herself to hit the call button. At the third ring she started to get that sinking feeling, but then on the fourth ring, Gabriel's warm, rich voice was in her ear.

"Well hello, gorgeous, I was just thinking about you."

Michael sagged with relief, a smile growing on her face.

"Hello yourself, handsome."

Sylvia gave her a thumbs up and a smile before shooing her from the room.

"What can I do for you?"

"I was just taking a break from work and wanted to say hi."

* * *

 

Chicago may have been dubbed the Windy City, because of the way its residents boasted and bragged about all it had to offer, but Michael was confident that the name stuck because it was also windy as hell. And downtown Chicago with all its skyscrapers, sculptures and tulips sat right at Lake Michigan's edge, catching the brunt of winds out of Canada blowing unfettered across the Great Lakes.

The wind, thankfully warm, pulled at her hair, tugged at the hem of her skirt and pushed her along as she walked, hurrying her and everyone else out for lunch on Michigan Avenue toward their destination.

She reached the Starbucks where she was supposed to be meeting Nyota and scanned the street. Michael was just about to text her when she spotted the other woman battling the wind as she made her way down Michigan Avenue. The wind was having its way with Nyota too, whipping the strands of her long dark hair across her face and pulling at the hem of her trendy, rose pink spring trench.

She waved to catch the linguist's attention, before starting toward her. The two women greeted each other with a hug, the wind practically pushing Nyota into her arms.

"This wind is unbelievable!" Nyota shouted over its roar. "Let's just eat in your building, it's closer."

Michael grimaced.

"I know the wind is bad, but let's go somewhere else. We don't have to cross the river." Michael could practically hear the snap of the flags over on the Michigan Avenue bridge rippling and taut in the grip of the wind and she was legitimately worried that the wind might just dump one of them in the river. Nyota was especially slender and wearing heels.

"What about at Chipotle?"

"And spend forty minutes in line?" Nyota complained.

"What about the Nordstrom's mall - at least the wind will be at our backs?"

"Alright, Nordstrom's Mall."

Arm-in-arm, the two friends made their way back up Michigan Avenue, past towering office buildings, sculptures on loan from various artists and the thousands of spring flowers decorating the sidewalks and boulevards, 60 mile per hour wind gusts at their backs.

Once inside and out of the wind, they decided to go to a familiar sushi restaurant in the food court and settled down for a quiet lunch. One of the nice things about the Nordstrom's mall was that the office workers in downtown Chicago rarely thought of it for lunch. So it was quiet and the service was quick. Soon they had a lunch of miso soup and sushi in a quiet corner booth.

"Mom says you and Spock had a fight?"

"We had a minor disagreement that has since been resolved."

"Good."

The pair talked a bit about their work. Although Nyota had the looks and grace of a model, the second generation Tanzanian-American was a linguist currently overseeing the translation of several training manuals for the US Department of the Interior into three different languages.

"I need your help with something regarding your brother." Nyota said shifting the conversation as they sat down to lunch.

"Of course."

"So every year Spock uses that computer-like brain of his to get the best gifts, Birthday, Christmas - it doesn't matter, his gifts are always better than mine."

Gift giving was something of a competition in their  household so Michael could only imagine that Nyota was struggling.

"His birthday is coming up, and this year I don't want my gift to be topped. So I need a secret weapon." Nyota looked at her.

"Say no more. I'd be happy to help."

"Thank you. This Saturday?"

"Actually, I'm busy. I have plans." Sylvia had proven absolutely right about calling Gabriel they were going to an art exhibit tomorrow evening and had plans for this weekend.

"Ohhhh, still going out with the Captain?"

"Just two weeks so far.'

"How's that going? What's he like?"

For a moment she considered telling Nyota about the coffee kerfuffle and Sylvia's advice to tell Gabe she was a virgin, but then she'd have to tell Nyota she was a virgin. She wasn't in the mood for the shock that someone as pretty as she was still a virgin at thirty.

"Gabriel is rugged, handsome, smart, but not intellucatul with an artistic side."

"Sounds nice.  How old is he?" Nyota asked tone a little too nonchalant.

"How old does Amanda think he is?"

The other woman laughed.

"She seems unsure maybe thirty-seven."

Michael didn't say anything.

"Ok so forty? Forty-five? Fifty?"

Michael shook her head.

"He's forty-seven."

"Oh and you haven't told Amanda or Sarek."

"No, you know how they'll react. Most parents would object, but I'll have to deal with a lecture from Sarek where he doesn't mention Ash, but it's obviously all about Ash, the implication being that I should reevaluate my life choices and then Amanda in an attempt to be supportive will start telling me how pretty and smart and successful I am and I could just meet more men if I would only put myself out there."

"Well that's not too bad."

"I know other people have worse parents."

"You mean like offering to set you up with a nice Tanzanian man when you break-up with the colonizer, while said 'colonizer' is in the room."

"Is your mom still doing that?"

"No, thank god, she finally stopped. Listen I understand why you want to hold off on the family drama, but if you tell them now you can down play it. Say you're just having fun, you're just getting know him. If you wait until things get  serious that might make it a lot harder for them to accept him because once it's serious they _have_ to accept it.

"That's logical.  I'll think about you're saying."

Nyota gasped.

"Logical, that's quite a compliment from you."

Michael rolled her eyes.

"Alright, we should probably head back. What time are we shopping Sunday?"

"My appointment at the beauty shop isn't until three."

"So we can meet at ten?"

"Sure."

"And don't worry, grandpa's age safe with me."

"Gee, thanks."

The two friends hugged and parted, Nyota leaving the Nordstrom's mall by the Wabash exit since her job was in the River North area of downtown, leaving Michael to battle the wind on Michigan Avenue alone.

The next two weeks passed quickly. Nyota kept her updated on the hunt for Spock's gift. She had lunch with her parents and Amanda pestered her for news of the man she was seeing.

She continued seeing Gabriel, each date going well, but something had changed in the way he interacted with her. She couldn't put her finger on it, but something had shifted subtly. It took her nearly two weeks for figure it out, but it was in the way he touched her.

His touch had been insistent, his body devouring her space, not that she minded in the least. But now his touch was gentle, lingering, every touch almost a caress. It was nice, and Michael found herself still more at ease with him.

In retrospect, she supposed that was why things went the way they did Thursday night.

* * *

 

 Michael had only just gotten settled into work when her phone rang. She'd left at her scheduled time today, 4:00 p.m., gotten home around 4:30 p.m. and gotten settled. The plan had been to work from home until about 6:30 p.m. She got an unexpected call from Gabriel at about a quarter past five.

"Hey Gabe, what's going on?"

"I know you're busy and I hate to ask, but can you take a break, maybe work from my apartment?"

"I could."

"The trip to the base took longer than expected and I just got a flat-"

"Oh. Is everything ok? Do you have a spare?"

"I have a spare, I have triple A. I'm fine, but someone needs to let Buran out. You and Hugh are the only people living in the area."

"I'd be happy to let Boo out."

She'd actually met Boo a few weeks ago.

She'd met Gabe at the Hyde Park Arts Festival, and he'd had a giant dog with him. He'd told her the breed was Alaskan Malamute, but Michael still wasn't convinced the fluffy black, white and gray dog wasn't part wolf. The beast came up to her stomach. Buran had however been calm, well behaved overall and sweet, pushing her head right into Michael's hand for pets. She had decided that the name Buran was too serious and started calling her Boo instead.

"She'll give a warning growl at the door, but back down once you're actually in the apartment. As far as she's concerned, if you have keys, you belong there."

"Alright. Are you sure you don't want me to come and pick you up?" She volunteered, more worried about Gabriel.

"That's alright. I need to deal with this tire, and Boo needs to be let out. Malamutes don't like to be by themselves for hours.

"Okay."

"You don't need to head over right away, maybe twenty minutes. After you walk Boo, help yourself to anything in the refrigerator if you get hungry and I'll pick us up some dinner. As soon as we hang up, I'll text you my wifi password."

"Alright."

"Thanks, Michael, this is a big help."

"Of course."

The call ended, and Michael decided she may as well go now instead of waiting. She put her laptop and a few other items in her bag and went to her closet. She put on a white knit fit and flare dress from Anthropologie, a denim jacket and a pair of high tops. She'd fluffed her hair out into a nice full fro this morning, and it was still looking good. After retouching her makeup, she summoned an Uber and left.

Boo growled at her through the door just as Gabriel said and then stopped the moment Michael was in the apartment. She had been vaguely worried that the doorman might give her a hard time. This was an expensive building; she'd been enough places where people either didn't expect to see black faces or assumed that all black faces were the help that she'd felt some trepidation about how the doorman might react to her.

But the older white man was perfectly friendly giving her the spare key and reminding her of the apartment number.

"Hey girl, you remember me." Michael petted the fluffy dog's giant head, while she whined at her, tail wagging. "Were you lonely?"

Boo licked her hand, and Michael leaned down, but not too close. She had no desire to let this dog lick her in the face. _God, Gabriel probably let her do it, white people._

She opened the foyer closet and found Boo's leash, a ball, and treats. Everything exactly where Gabriel had said it would be. She sat them on the table and looked around for the bathroom. When she'd been here on Saturday it had only been for a few minutes.

There was the living room sitting right off the foyer the evening sun filling the room with orange and gold light and a darkened hall that led into the rest of the apartment. Assuming the bathroom would be off that hall Michael slipped her high tops off and felt for a lightswitch in the hall.

Michael made her way down the hall he had a few photos hanging on the walls there and Michael wondered if they were his own work or another photographer her admired. She passed a closed door and then the kitchen hoping she would find the bathroom door open. It was one of the furthest from the entry.

The bathroom was fully modernized and sleek, the wall and floor tiled with gray marble. The sink and toilet recutangular with coppery-gold faucets. All the lighting was recessed so that it seemed to glow gently over the sink and shower. Modern wasn't everything. He didn't have a big, clawfoot tub like she did.

Nature's call answered Michael went to go and get Boo and take her for her walk,  but found herself standing in the doorway of Gabriel's bedroom.

The curtains were drawn blocking out the evening sunlight, shrouding the room in darkness. Michael knew she probably shouldn't snoop, but unable to resist, she flipped on the light and looked around.

It was sparsely furnished with bed, dresser, short bookcase, nightstand, a chair with its own table, and a couple of landscapes. The accent wall had been painted a warm golden-coppery color that worked well with the navy bedspread and orange floor rug.

Michael walked over to his bed and ran her fingers over the light spread.

They had only known each other a few weeks, but if they had slept together when she invited him up for coffee, she might have seen his bedroom already. She sat down on the edge and then after a few seconds, lay down. The moment her head hit the pillow his scent wafted over her that mix of his warm rich cologne and a brightly scented soap.  She wondered what it would be like to sleep in his bed as his lover, to fall asleep in his arms as he stroked her hair.* To have him sleep in her bed. What would his weight feel like on top of her, his heat, his strength? She felt that familiar tightening in the pit of her belly, the way she almost always felt about him, semi-aroused.

Michael lay there for several minutes, hands resting on her abdomen, wondering what it would be like until Boo came in, leash in the mouth and whined for her walk.

"You're right girl, I'm sorry." Michael sat up, intending to take Boo for her walk right away, but stopped when she spied two framed pictures on the nightstand table. The first was a picture of Gabriel and his older brother with his parents. He couldn't have been any more than six, and she thought maybe he was the cutest thing she'd ever seen. But it was the second picture that really caught her eye. An adult Gabriel, in his late 20's or early 30's, she couldn't be sure, with a little boy about her complexion, maybe four years old.

There were mountains in the background in dusty desert shades. Georgia had mountains and hills, but they would be covered in trees, green grass, and snow, right? This was somewhere else.

She frowned, Gabriel had not mentioned a kid, but his ex-wife had been black. Surely he would have told her if he had a child.

Annoyed with herself for snooping, especially since that meant she couldn't ask without revealing she'd been snooping, Michael carefully set the picture back on the nightstand.

"Come on, Boo."

Boo was a well-behaved dog, and Michael mimicked the way Gabriel held the leash, keeping it short and close to her body. Boo relieved herself the moment they were out the door, and they headed over to 53rd Street park.

She was normally wary of being out in the park by herself at night, but felt a certain amount of confidence with a wolf-sized dog for company. She didn't worry about her morning runs, statistically speaking anyone looking to burgle you or do worse was, well, active when everyone else was active, 9:00 a.m.-5:00 p.m. for break-ins, and 5:00 p.m. - 9 :00 p.m .for muggings, harassment and sexual assault. Five or six in the morning was one of the safest times of all.

With the giant dog at her side strangers gave her a wide berth and Michael found herself considering an edition to her family of pets. It wasn't just harassment she wanted to avoid, but people in general it seemed a giant dog was a good way to do that.

While they were in the park she Buran off the leash for a bit to play fetch taking a meandering walk down to 57th Street Beach and then headed over to Lake Park Boulevard and back to Gabe's apartment at 51st Street. Hyde Park had changed a lot in the last ten years - some aspects were good, others less so.

Several of the pleasant public spaces were gone, like Harper's court along with a number of longtime small businesses. Still out of all the city renovation over the last ten years Hyde Park's was probably the most balanced. Small businesses like Dr. Wax,  57th St Barbeque and several of the old used bookstores were still in place. Baskin Robbins the site of President Obama and First Lady Michelle Obama's first kiss would surely be there forever.

The doorman gave her just as friendly a greeting when she returned, and Michael took the elevator back up to Gabe's apartment.

Buran walked, Michael refilled the dog's food and water and stood in the kitchen a moment.

She should get back to work, but the picture, of course, was still on her mind. Who was the little boy? Knowing that she shouldn't be prying, Michael went back into Gabe's bedroom and picked up the picture. The frame came apart easily enough, and she looked at the back of the photo. _Gabriel and Anthony, Grand Canyon, 200_ \- She squinted trying to read the last number. Whoever had written it had very poor handwriting, it could have been 2, 3 or 8.

Anthony, Grand Canyon. She could go prying on his Facebook page. See if there was anything. Did they have Facebook back in 2002? She put the picture back in place and went back to the living room.

The living room had the same warm feel as Gabriel's bedroom with modern navy color sectional sofa, a breakfast nook with a padded circular bench and glass table that looked out onto the park. More art hung here, in bright colors to offset the dark walls. Before settling, Michael found the thermostat in the hall and turned the air conditioning off. With the sun down the air outside was cool and pleasant. She opened the living room windows letting in a late evening breeze that stirred the curtains.

Michael settled on the sofa, it was plush and well padded and comfortable.

Opening her laptop, and putting her feet up on the coffee table she navigated to Facebook. She'd never been much of a Facebook user, though she'd taken to Snapchat and Instagram. Still, she had a page. She logged on for the first time in months. There were several friend requests, including one from Gabriel which she accepted before going to his page. He'd been tagged in a number of pictures. The first was a group photo captioned “Sisko's” that must have been from just a couple weeks ago.

The picture was of Gabriel and seven other men and women. A couple of them had take-out containers, and everyone looked happy. Must be some of his Navy friends.

She was trying to decide how best to search through his timeline and look for any mention of an Anthony or Grand Canyon when she stopped herself.

Whatever the relationship with Anthony was, son or nephew, the only picture was in his bedroom. Obviously, Anthony was important to him, but it was also something private. She closed his page. He'd tell her about Anthony if and when he was ready. Gabriel trusted her; she wasn't going to violate that trust by prying. Besides, she had her own work to do.

Setting her curiosity aside, Michael toggled to her work file, put in her earbuds and put her feet up on the coffee table. In a few minutes, she was completely absorbed in typing up her conclusions about the results from the labs.

She worked for about half an hour before Boo came to sit with her on the couch, weaseling her head and front paws into Michael's lap, looking up at her with big puppy dog eyes.

Charmed and amused, Michael shifted her laptop to accommodate the dog.

* * *

  
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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading friends. I know there is no Gabe in this chapter, but don't worry he'll be home soon. For anyone wondering yes Michael called Gabriel right after his shower, give or take ten minutes, thinking of her was under statement.
> 
> I'm really excited for the next three chapters, especially the next two. Might be a bit of a delay on the updates since I have to get my gift finished on time, but chapter 8 should be posted fairly soon.


	8. Long Weekend, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get heated when Gabriel returns from the base.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay on this. I've been busy with the USS Archangel fic exchange. Chapters 8 and 9 are two of my favorites. I'll try and get the next one out sooner rather than later.

The lake breeze ruffled his hair, and Gabriel Lorca rested his arm out the car window, steering along Lake Shore Drive one-handed, humming as he went. For a moment he missed the convertible he'd left with his brother in the south. It wasn't an ideal car for a city where the average temperature didn't get above 66 degrees for nine months out of the year but on a night with perfect with weather like this, he missed it.

In spite of most of his Thursday being a complete and utter waste Gabriel was in a good mood. It was hard to be irritated when the weather was great, there was good music on the radio and Michael Burnham was waiting for him at his apartment.

Gabriel felt heat in his loins at the thought of Michael waiting for him and pushed his thoughts away from the images that idea conjured. They were going have dinner -he'd picked up her favorite Italian food, talk, cuddle, maybe go for a walk and then he was going to take her home.

His exit came up and he pulled off Lake Shore drive. Rush hour was over so there was very little traffic and soon he was pulling into the garage for his building.

He stopped in the lobby market and grabbed a bottle of chilled red wine from the refrigerator case. It shouldn't take long to warm and would go well with dinner. The doorman greeted him with a friendly wave.

"Evening, Gabriel."

"Evening." One of the first things he'd done upon moving into this building was to stop the doormen and other staff from calling him, mister.

"Everything went smoothly, there was no trouble with your guest."

"Thanks, Joe," Gabriel said, not thinking much of the comment even though it seemed a bit odd. He made his way upstairs and was a bit surprised when Buran wasn't at the door to greet him. Then, of course, he found Michael and Boo curled up on the couch.

Michael had her feet up on the coffee table, earbuds in, working on her laptop, Buran dozing with her head tucked in Michael's lap.

They didn't notice him right away and he stood a moment just watching them. Her dark hair fluffed out into a neat afro, a halo gleaming around her head, dark skin gleaming against the little white dress she wore. Gabriel let his eyes linger on her long dark legs and the length of thigh exposed by her skirt, marveling once again at the idea that she was still a virgin.

"Michael?"

Boo almost leaped from her spot and trotted over to him, tail wagging eager for his attention. Placing the food on the coffee table and Gabriel crouched to pet his dog stroking her face and chin and letting her lick his face and of course telling her what a good dog she was.

After a few minutes, he looked up to see Michael giving him one of those judgy faces that only black women could give.

"What?"

"You let the dog lick you in the face."

The judgy face deepened somehow; amused, Gabriel joined Michael on the couch.

"Yeah, I did." He put an arm around her shoulders and then nuzzled his beard right up against her neck.

"Oh my god!" She squealed, laughing and squirming. "Stop it!'

Gabriel only chuckled: she was a delicious armful all soft curves and silky skin wriggling against him.

"I thought you liked my beard," he stopped to look at her tone rueful.

"Not when its covered in dog drool, it just tickles that's all."

"Are you ticklish, Michael?"  Gabriel grinned, pleased with this discovery.

"Don't-"

In seconds his apartment was filled with Michael's musical laughter as she gasped and cried in his arms all at once, but made no real effort to get away.

He'd changed the way he interacted with her over the last week, in particular, the way he was with her physically.

When he'd been under the mistaken impression that she had the same experiences as any attractive woman in her early thirties he hadn't hesitated to touch her casually as much as she allowed. Now though Gabriel was careful to keep his presence gentle or playful. It seemed to be working: she hadn't frozen or gotten that deer-in-headlights look since he’d changed his approach, and just now he'd probably touched her more than he had in the last 4 weeks, but the only thing he was getting was a giggling, half-hearted protest.

"So this is how you thank me?" She said in between breaths when he paused to give her break.  "Tickle torture and rubbing your drooly dog beard on me."

She was lying on her side under him, cleavage spilling out of the neckline of her dress, hand pressed against his chest as if to ward him off. Gabriel swallowed, he could lean down and kiss her, but instead, he sat back on the couch and turned his attention to the take-out sitting on the coffee table.

"The thank you is dinner from that Italian place you love, Trattoria Roma."

Michael sat up, face lighting with a surprised smile, dark eyes going wide with delight.

"Ohhhh, did you get the lasagna?"

"I did, and that tiramisu."

She did a little dance in her seat before jumping up.

"Have you eaten there before? Their food is so good."

Gabriel shook his head.

"Gabe, oh my God, their food is so, so good. The ricotta on the lasagna is light and fluffy, the veal so tender and the sauce," she paused and brought her fingers to her lips before kissing them. "Bellissimo."

Gabriel bit down on his lower lip and made a mental note. Michael loved to eat.

They took a few minutes to set the table.He poured their wine while Michael started fixing their plates.  Buran followed them into the dining room waiting for any opportunity to eat anything that fell on the floor.  

Gabriel decided to put on some music while they ate. He opened his entertainment center and slotted his iPod into its port.

"Wait a minute," Michael said getting up from the table to come and peer around him and into the entertainment center.

"What is this?" She pointed to his record player, a mischievous look on her face and Gabe got the distinct impression he was on the wrong end of a meme.

"It looks like some kind of ancient communication device." Michael continued with her teasing. "I've seen pictures in books, but I never thought I'd see one in real life."

"Are you having fun?"

"I'm just trying to learn your ancient ways oh wise one." She pulled out an album at random, and held it up, peeking at him over the cover.  "Perhaps you can play one of these big CDs for me, show me the ancient art of pre-computer picture making."

"You're not that young. I'm sure your parents had albums."

"Scientist, they liked technology, early adopters," she winked at him.

"Let's eat." He plucked the Janis Joplin album from her hands and she turned to head back to her side of the table. Gabriel, feeling every bit his age, gave her a gentle whack on the ass with the album.

Michael gasped and looked at him over her shoulder.

"Respect your elders."

She pouted at him but went to her seat. He hit the play button and joined her. The dining room table was a small square table for four. Rather than sitting across from one another, they sat adjacent to each other which offered a different kind of intimacy.

"Did you have any trouble with Boo?"

Michael shook her head.

"The doorman was friendly, Boo growled at the door just like you said, but she was fine after that. She's really well-behaved, too, doesn't pull at the leash. I'd be happy to walk her in the future."

Michael ate a forkful of her lasagna and hummed in approval as she closed her eyes savoring her food.

"This is so so good."  She finished the first mouthful and smiled. "How was the base? Were you able to get everything done?"

"No. I'll have to go back on Monday."

Her whole face wrinkled at those words and she clucked her tongue for a response.

"What about you - did you at least get all your work done?"

"I finished enough."

The conversation moved onto weekend plans. They had agreed to exchange photography lessons for videography lessons. Michael had decided she wanted to go to the Kyoto Gardens for her lesson, apparently they right here in Hyde Park. Michael sighed and exclaimed over her food throughout the meal, Gabriel quietly enjoying the show. He'd have to cook for her sometime soon, a quiet night in.

"I was thinking about our conversation, nature vs. nurture."

"I remember," Gabriel said with a fond smile. He'd noticed that about her, how she returned to a conversation from a week earlier rather abruptly, ready to share new thoughts.

"We all have the same capacities, our programming is the same across the board in terms what our brains can do. For instance, the area of the brain responsible for logical thinking  the same -however even from the time we're conceived, our parents are shaping the development of our bodies, and most importantly our central nervous system."

Her left hand was resting on the table and Gabriel began stroking it lightly, trailing one finger back and forth. She didn't seem to react much, but there was she shifted subtly to the left and he found himself wondering if she noticed.

"We still don't know the full extent to which the central nervous system shapes our personality, behavior, and talents, but we do know that the mother's behavior and habits shape the development of the fetus, as well as the environment and conditions she lives under."

"So you're saying that what people perceive as nature is just nurture that takes place before birth."

"Yes."

"So if it's all nurture it can all be shaped, mitigated or changed if you work on it enough."

"Yes, but of course you maybe be so far behind or advanced in an area that it's not worth the effort to change."

"By the same token with honest and dedicated effort, you can do or become almost anything."

"Almost," she smiled.

They moved on from dinner to dessert, conversation alternating between serious topics, easy banter, and flirting.

When they finished eating they moved into the kitchen, clearing up plates, silverware and take-out containers. Gabriel refilled their wine glasses, as they unloaded and loaded the dishwasher, talking all the while.

"You like to cook, huh?" Her eyes skimmed over his appliances - food processor, standing mixer, blender - and landed on the hanging rack of copper-bottomed cookware hanging from the ceiling rack.

"I've gotten into it since leaving the military. Of course, it's more fun when there is someone else to cook for."

Michael only smiled and sipped her wine. Herb Alpert's Rise started opening with that classic disco beat and Michael got excited, smiling.

"My parents used to play this when I was a kid. Let's dance."

"You know how to bop?" Gabriel asked. "It's a kind of an ancient dance from the same era as my record player," he said taking her hands. "That's what you do to this song."

"Ohhh the condescending man is out tonight. Black people invented the bop and I am an ambassador's daughter. I know how to dance."

He got the judgy face again as she stuck out her tongue, and Gabriel could only laugh.

"Alright then, ambassador's daughter."

 _Rise,_ was such a classic 70's song starting out with basic disco sound, but then the horn came in and elevated into something else, something sultry and timeless.

He should have expected her to be confident with this kind of dance given her upbringing, but it was still a pleasant surprise. Now-a-days everyone seemed to just rub their genitals together - not that he blamed them -, but kids just weren't taught other ways to dance with each other.

Which was a shame, because it wasn't hard and it was nice to hold a beautiful woman in your arms and have fun and have it not be about sex.

Rise was twice the length your typical pop song. Halfway through  Michael started to loosen up, putting little flourishes on her movements and holding his gaze, relaxed and easy in his arms, letting him lead, moving with him. She tensed when he dipped her though relying on her own strength to keep upright.

"I've got you."

He held her for just a moment and then righted them, pulling her upright and their bodies into alignment. She knew how to dance, but wasn't comfortable being dipped. 

"Those high society boys you grew up with couldn't have been much fun." 

"I didn't dance much. Mostly just held up the walls."

Gabriel frowned.

"I have a hard time believing the boys weren't beating down your father's door, Michael."

"Not at 17 I was this weird, sad, shy, obviously out of place black girl, and everyone assumed my parents must have been criminals - especially when they heard I'd grown up on the Southside of Chicago.”

Sadness crept into her eyes and the urge to protect and soothe her stirred. He rubbed her back, pulling her closer still.

"I wish I could've-"

He wasn't sure what exactly, but she smiled anyway and the song faded to its end. And it was Michael who stretched up on tiptoe to kiss him, the touch of her soft, plush lips on his igniting the current that was always between them.

Of course he kissed her back. In seconds it was hot and passionate, his ego puffing up over the fact that she'd kissed him.

Gabriel told himself he wasn't going to let it go very far. He slid one hand up along her back to cradle her head and clutch gently at her cloudy-soft hair while the other slid up over her ribcage to settle under her breast.

When her only response was to keep kissing him he slid it up higher. Their kiss deepened and she arched her back so that he could cup the soft mound of her breast fully. Encouraged, Gabriel walked her back to the counter and broke the kiss for a moment to breathe.

Michael gazed up at him, pupils wide, full lips kiss-swollen. Blood rushed into his dick and he got that delicious, tight feeling in his balls. Gabriel stroked his thumb across her cheek, resisting the urge to press up against her and let her know just how much he wanted her. He needed that space to keep control of the situation and she needed it to feel comfortable. For the moment this was about her pleasure.

"You are so damned beautiful,sweetheart."

Gabriel braced one hand on the counter and kissed those plush lips again before moving to trail kisses along her jaw and just below her earlobe, smiling against her neck when she shivered. He trailed open-mouthed kisses along the length of her throat, savoring the scent of her soft, perfumed skin while he kneaded her breast through the fabric of her dress.

"Gabe," his name escaped her lips in a breathy moan and he prepared himself for her to insist they stop. When no such thing happened, he slid the hand on her breast lower to splay over her abdomen.

She tensed then, but he was expecting that.

"Let me touch you, Michael." He whispered the words in her ear, nipping her lobe as he did so. "We'll only go as far as you're comfortable with."

"OK."

Gabriel slid his hand up under her brief, white skirt, grazing the silky skin of her thighs, and then cupped her crotch, biting down on his lower lip when he found the crotch of her lace panties soaked through.

"Oh Michael, my lil' darlin', I had no idea."

Her only response was a gasp as she pressed into his hand. He slipped his hand down into her panties and stroked the mat of wiry hair covering the outside of her wet cunt.He pushed the heel of his hand against her and Michael pushed back with a moan, hands clutching the fabric of his shirt.

Gabriel split those lower lips and sighed at how velvet soft she was under his fingers slick and hot with arousal, shuddering at his touch. He could imagine sliding his dick there, too and cut off that thought - not tonight.

Instead he slid his fingers up and down the length of her slit, slow and exploratory, taking note of every gasp, sigh and twitch, looking first for the tiny nub of her clit and then that tiny, almost undetectable u-spot.  He wanted her moaning and writhing over his hand.

He could have satisfied her without penetrating her, but wanted- needed to know what she felt like. He slipped a finger into her cunt, first just circling the rim.

"I know you touch yourself Michael, tell me where."

Her only reply was to gasp and clutch at his arm, dark eyes shut as she bit her lower lip. She was beautiful.

"Come on sweetheart," he said probing for a little rough patch, the g-spot, which he knew should be somewhere-

She drew in a shuddering breath and her grip on his shoulders tightened.

"Right there."

"Good girl."

He began stroking her in earnest then, using two fingers to make circles around the sensitive rim of her pussy catching her g-spot in every swipe and then sliding back up to circle her clit a few times and then back down again. Establishing a rhythm that had her moaning and arching at his touch, he brought her closer and closer while keeping satisfaction just out of reach.

"Mhmm, Gabe don't- don't tease me."

"You can hold out a while longer, sweetheart," Gabriel replied, guessing that she probably finished herself off quickly.

She grew wet and swollen at his touch the growing tension in her body begging for release as she moaned and clutched at him with each pulse of pleasure that passed through her. Gabriel could almost imagine what his dick would feel like inside of her, hot and slick her walls flexing around him at every stroke.

"Please, Gabe I-"

"Open your eyes, Michael, let me see."

She gasped and did as told, breath quickening and Gabriel's dick got stiffer. Her eyes were almost completely black with lust.

"Alright, darlin'," he said, deliberately keeping his voice steady and slow, even as he changed up his rhythm, attention shifting strictly to her g-spot.

She didn't last long after that, a handful of seconds announcing her pleasure in a long, loud moan, body going tense as her cunt flexed and grasped for him.

"Ahhhh, Gabe-"

She sagged against him then, a gush of wet heat soaking his fingers. For a long moment, neither of them moved and he could feel the remnants of her orgasm pulsing through her as she pressed against his hand, riding the last few waves of pleasure.

Gabriel eased his hand away, thinking of satisfying another curiosity. He wanted to know what she tasted like - but then saw her dark eyes on him, watching curiously.

"Have you ever tasted yourself, sweetheart?" he asked stroking her lower lip with the thumb of his other hand.

"No."

"Here."

Gabriel didn't quite know what possessed him,  and he sure didn't know what he expected her to do. But what he didn't expect was for her to lock her dark eyes on his and take his finger to the knuckle.

His dick went completely stiff and he groaned before leaning down to kiss her and capture any taste of her left. Gabriel felt almost certain he could walk her back to his bedroom, lay her down and take her. He might have to work her up again a bit, but he could do it. He was almost certain.

But he wanted her completely comfortable with him. No doubts, no hesitations. If she was a virgin he wanted her to share that with him first. If she wasn't comfortable enough to discuss it with him, then she wasn't comfortable enough to have sex with him and he certainly couldn't talk about sex with her in any meaningful kind of way right now.

He pulled his lips from hers and took a moment to catch his breath, forehead pressed to hers.

"I should take you home."

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always friends thanks so much for reading. Please take a moment to comment and let me know what you think happens in the next chapter. I promise you won't get it, but I want to see if anyone comes close.
> 
> A/N- Rise is an excellent fucking song if you're not familiar with it go listen to it.
> 
> The Lasagna from Tratorria Roma is just as amazing as described if you ever get a chance to try it you should. I promise you'll love it. I've only eaten it once and I've never forgotten it.


	9. Long Weekend pt 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael and Gabriel begin connecting on a deeper level and Michael shares something very important with Gabriel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey friends, fellow shippers, welcome. I've got another update for you, hope you enjoy. Have you all heard the casting news? Anson Mount as Captain Pike. What do you guys think? Let me know in the comments. I wish we would hear something about Jason.

The car was quiet, Gabriel's responses to her monosyllabic. He did hold her hand, but otherwise, he was a thousand miles away.

At ten o'clock on a Thursday night traffic was non-existent, and in ten short minutes, they were pulling into her driveway. Before it could occur to her to ask what was wrong, Gabriel had walked her to her door and given her quick kiss goodnight.

Michael made her way up to her third-floor apartment, wooden stairs creaking underfoot, the memory of Gabriel's touch, kiss echoing everywhere in her skin. She stroked her neck absently extending the memory of the sensation and took a deep breath as she realized that his scent lingered on her.

It took a moment of fumbling in the dark to get her door unlocked, and she opened it to an apartment that was dark and quiet. A sense of emptiness filling the space as she looked first to the living room and saw the sheers dancing in the even breeze and then down into the rest of her apartment shrouded in darkness.

"Sylvia." _Had the other woman said something about a study session?_  Either way, she got no answer.

She flipped on the light in time to see Coco and Snowball come trotting down the hall. She shut the apartment door and crouched to greet the cats, petting them as they butted their heads up against her hands, Coco purring in a loud rumble.

"Hey, guys did you miss me? I missed you."

Snowball meowed back at her and Coco continued rubbing his face against her hand. After greeting the cats, Michael pulled off her high-tops and jacket and headed to her bedroom, cats zipping back and forth down the hall, excited by her return. Her panties still wet in the crotch went in the hamper and her laptop bag she set on the floor beside the nightstand.

For a second she considered calling Gabe but decided against she needed to get up early tomorrow.

Instead, she stripped out of the rest of her clothes and got in the shower. The hot spray washed the lingering trace of Gabriel's touch and scent from her skin, the normally soothing nighttime ritual leaving her oddly bereft. She went through the ritual of putting on lotion, a soft rose scented cream, and then vaseline on her feet before pulling on socks so the heels of her feet would be soft and smooth tomorrow.

By the time she pulled on a t-shirt and shorts for pajamas, little paws were coming under the door while the cats meowed at her sounding desperately unhappy at this twenty-minute separation.

With an amused shake of the head, Michael opened the bathroom door, Coco and Snowball darting through at the first opportunity.

"I'm not staying the bathroom." She said turning the light off.

Fresh and clean Michael got into bed. The moment she was settled Coco and Snowball curled up on either side of her. The feeling of wrongness peaked and she leaned over and picked up her cell phone from the nightstand.

**M.B. 'Did I do something wrong?'**

Michael had just enough time to open her YouTube comments before a notification of Gabriel's reply pinged.

**G.L. 'Wrong? When?'**

Michael typed and retyped her answer struggling to pick her words, not exactly sure what she was trying to ask. She knew she should probably call him, but he'd been so quiet in the car she couldn't quite bring herself to do it.

**M.B. 'Earlier. Did you not like it?'**

She finally sent that last lame message, hoping it conveyed her worries.

 **G.L. 'Michael sweetheart you were sexy AF, you** **_are_ ** **sexy AF. That will never be a problem you were perfect.'**

**M.B. 'Oh-okay."**

Relief flooded through her and Michael relaxed settling into bed, for about thirty seconds before she became annoyed.

**M.B.: 'You rushed me out earlier. Why?'**

**G.L.: 'Did you want to fuck tonight, sweetheart?'**

Heat rushed to Michael's face, and she felt her whole body respond to the suggestion, along with a flood of insecurities, among them her so-called "problem".

**M.B.: 'Yes, no, maybe, idk**

**G.L.: LOL. I'm sorry I rushed you out tonight Michael, but I want to treat you with respect, and all I wanted to do earlier was to take you to bed Michael and not to sleep. I would have tried to pressure you into something you're not quite ready for. I want you 100% no confusion, no regrets.**

**M.B.: You want me?**

She knew he did. His every action told her that, but to have him say it created a giddy, rush.

**G.L.: 'Michael sweetheart I've wanted you since I laid eyes on you.'**

**M.B.: 'Oh.'**

**G.L.: 'Are you in bed Michael?'**

**M.B. 'Yes.' She replied not at all certain where this was going.**

**G.L. 'Do you wish I was there with you? Holding you in my arms?'**

She could almost hear those last words in her ear, that slow, soft southern drawl and for some reason they made her heart flutter just a bit. A part of her felt small and silly like a child for wanting what he was offering.

**M.B.: 'You don't have to.'**

**G.L. 'Yes or no Michael.'**

**M.B. 'Y'.'**

**G.L.: 'Alright.'**

**M.B.:????**

**G.L: 'I'll be there in about 15 minutes.**

**M.B. 'K'**

Something light and airy bubbled up inside of her the feeling of wrongness shifting. Michael got out of bed and intending to pull on her silver robe and go wait for him in the living room, but then she considered her PJs, a bleach stained iCarly t-shirt that she'd had since jr high and a ragged pair of shorts.  They were only going to cuddle, but she had cuter pajamas.

Michael traded her ragged pajamas for a satin camisole in a soft powder blue and matching shorts with lace edging the set had a matching robe, and she pulled that on as well. She considered her bonnet but left that in place. She wasn't the first black woman Gabe had dated. He shouldn't expect anything different.

Satisfied with her change of clothes Michael went to the living room and settled on the love seat to look for Gabe out the window, gentle evening breeze moving over her skin.

She felt suddenly like a little girl waiting for the start of a birthday party; nothing was more interesting to her than the fact that Gabriel was coming simply because she wanted him to.

She sat looking out the window, mind turning over his words. _Sweetheart, you're sexy AF. I've wanted you since the moment I laid eyes on you. I want to treat you with respect Michael._

His actions reflected that too, treating her with respect. It wasn't just words with Gabriel. His respect for her had been clear from day one.

 _"Sometimes women are just smarter than us,_ _it's_ _ok. Intelligence isn't really linked to gender or race or even their beauty."_

That airy lightness bubbled up further and Michael hugged herself out of happiness for a moment before turning her eyes back to the street.

Michael was on her feet the moment his black Mercedes pulled into the driveway. She buzzed him up before he was out of the car, had her apartment door unlocked before he could knock.

"Michael," he said her name with that little smile, head cocked to one side.

"Hey, Gabe."

He kissed her forehead and held her a moment.

"You smell really good. What is that?"

"It's just lotion."

"Well, it's very nice." He gave her another squeeze before relinquishing his hold to settle an arm around her waist.

"Did you need water or anything?"

"No, I was pretty much ready for bed when I got your text."

He was wearing a baseball cap, windbreaker, and shorts.

"I was in bed actually."

"Nice pajamas." He said running a hand up and down her back.  "I don't know about this cloth on your head though."

"Don't pretend that you don't know what a scarf or a bonnet is Gabriel."

His only response was a chuckle, blue eyes clear and merry. That little bubble of happiness inside her expanded and Michael felt herself smiling up at him.

"What is it?" He asked.

"I'm just glad you came."  Michael tucked her head against his shoulder feeling very shy all of a sudden.

"Me too sweetheart, let's go to bed."

Gabriel's hat, windbreaker, and gym shoes went in the foyer closet leaving him in his t-shirt and sweat-shorts. They made their way down the hall to Michael's bedroom.

"I do know what a scarf is, but I have a question."

"Shoot," Michael said turning on the light.

"How did you get all your hair under there?"

It was Michael's turn to laugh.

"I braided it, took like five minutes."

"Well, it was just so much bigger before."

Michael laughed again.

"That's why they call it black girl magic," she said with a wink.

They stood in her doorway for an awkward moment. Gabriel complimented her room, the mural. Eventually, she directed him to the left side of the bed so she could take the right. Michael started to untie her robe, but sensing Gabe's eyes on her she turned the lamp off first, plunging the room into darkness, the only light peeking in through the crack between her curtains.

Feeling braver in the dark she slipped her robe off hanging it on the hook at her bedside.

Michael got into bed and lay down still and unmoving in the dark. She listened to the sound of Gabriel moving around, undressing. _He didn't have very much to take off._

The bed shifted under his weight as he settled down beside her and she could feel the heat his body generated.

"Come here, sweetheart." He pulled her close to him, spooning his body up against hers and an arm settled around her waist. She felt the tantalizing brush of bare skin on her back, the tickle of chest hair on her skin.

"How's that?"

Michael understood the biology behind hugs, the soothing hormones released by touch and gentle pressure, the almost instant cascade of benefits, but the sudden sense of comfort, of ease that came over her when Gabe settled alongside her, that sense of rightness, of finding something that had been missing-

-She sat up and turned on the light. The desire to tell him sudden and urgent.

"Gabe."

"What is it?" He asked confusion evident in his expression.

He sat up, and her eyes strayed to his bare chest for just a moment. Michael made herself focus.

"Listen I want to tell you something."

"I'm listening sweetheart."

"I want you to know why I get so weird and awkward sometimes especially when things are getting intimate between us." Michael took a deep breath feeling with absolute certainty that she could tell him and it would be OK. "I've never had sex before, with anyone."

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wizfrog is the only who guessed if Michael would sleep at Gabe's or go home. Her guess was that she would sleep at Gabe's. Michael isn't like either one of us she went home, but I think that worked out better for her in the end. You owe me an isik girl.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading. Please take a moment comment say hi, let me know you're out there. I read and respond to all comments. If you haven't already done so hit the subscription button to make sure you never miss an update.


	10. Burst the Bubble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael is an adorable nerd.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, sorry for such a long time between updates. I had chapters 10-12 ready to go, but changed some things at the last minute and wrote entirely new scenes. I can be a bit of a perfectionist sometimes. Also in spite of my best efforts, the chapters are getting longer and that means longer periods of time in between updates.

"Hello, this is Michael Burnham, calling to report that I will not be in today, but expect to return to work on Monday at my regularly scheduled time, thank you."

Michael ended the call and took note of the time as she sat her phone on the nightstand, 2:17 a.m.

"It that gonna be okay?" Gabriel blinked at her sleepily, and she smiled.

"It'll be fine. I never call-in and in the three years that I've worked at the lab I've only been sick once."

Curling up next to him, Michael pillowed her head on his chest, a smile playing about her lips.

Gabriel had, in no way, been surprised by her revelation that she was a virgin. In fact, he'd surprised her by telling her that he'd guessed it. She still wasn't sure how she felt about that. He had had a few questions for her though.

_"But you do like men and would in theory like to have sex at some point the future right? You're not like secretly promised to God or something?"_

_She laughed out loud at the idea nerves making her a bit jittery._

_"Are  you asking if I would want to have sex with you at some undefined future date?"_

_Gabriel shrugged, "More or less."_

_She'd drawn her knees up to her chest and looked down at her feet, still feeling very shy about all of this._

_"I like you a lot Gabe; you're a very attractive man."_

_She'd forced herself to meet his eyes on the last; he deserved to hear her say it and know that she meant it._

_He'd smiled at that._

Somehow they'd ended up talking again until 2:00 a.m.

"So where is this breakfast place that we're going to?"

"Original House of Pancakes."

"We're going to IHOP?" He asked, yawning as he rubbed her back absently.

Michael cut her eyes at him and pursed her lips.

"We are not going to an IHOP."

"Sounds like an IHOP. White Castle, Krystal Castle pretty much the same thing. One letter can't make that much difference."

"I'm offended. I'm offended that you think I would call off from work to go to an IHOP." Michael yawned and blinked.  "I have taste."

He chuckled.

"You did agree to go out with me, so you have taste in some things."

"I think I'm starting to reconsider that."

His replied by kissing her on the forehead.

"Where are we going after IHOP?"

Michael rolled her eyes.

"South Garden at the Art Institute, make sure to bring your camera."

Gabriel yawned, "IHOP, a garden, maybe we should leave the date planning to me."

"Mhmm, turn out the light Gabe."

She felt him shifting under her and a moment later the room went dark.

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight sweetheart."

Gabriel closed his hand around the one she'd splayed across his chest, and Michael felt him press a kiss to her fingertips before he twined his fingers with hers.

"I'm glad you came Gabe."

"I'm glad you called."

* * *

 

The Original House of Pancakes not to be confused with the International House of Pancakes was a favorite in Hyde Park.  Although they had a handful of restaurants scattered throughout the U.S. all using the same recipes everything was still made to order, onsite in their kitchen.

Michael had many fond memories of eating there with her parents.

Now she waved good-bye to her Uber driver and strolled into the restaurant with a smile, excited by the idea of sharing it with Gabe.

When the hostess offered seating Michael explained that she was waiting for a friend and had a seat, smoothing her hands down the front of black skinny jeans. She sat down in the waiting area and glanced at her reflection taking a moment to adjust the black and white check wrap shirt she wore and fluff her fro. Satisfied with her appearance Michael pulled out her phone pulled up the article she'd been reading on film photography. She wanted to be prepared for tomorrow.

She only had a few minutes of reading before Gabe showed up dressed in a lightweight, camel-colored knit pullover and jeans, gold watch gleaming on his wrist.

Michael's face lit the moment her eyes landed on him and before she'd thought about it that light bubbly feeling had her up on her feet, reaching toward him, and yet she paused suddenly inhibited by the presence of other customers near the hostess stand. Gabriel only shook his head in mild amusement.

"C'mere sweetheart," he gave her the same quick hug and kiss he always did, settling an arm around her shoulders as they turned to the hostess podium.

The hostess, a petite black woman with long hair, pulled into a ponytail seated them at a window booth. Smiling, she left them with menus and a promise that their waitress would be with them shortly. Seconds later a busboy appeared leaving them with two glasses of ice water in short, dark tinted tumblers.

Gabriel surveyed the dining room squinting a moment.

"Looks alright I guess."

"You're going to be difficult about this?"

"One letter can't make that much of a difference."

"All the difference in the world," Michael said resting her hands on the table as she leaned toward him. "You'd know that if you weren't such a tourist."

"Ouch," Gabriel nodded as he said it though, gliding one finger up and down the back of her hand.

"Hi, I'm Bev. I'll be your waitress."

"Hi, Bev."

"Mornin' ma'am," Gabriel greeted her with a smile.

"Anything to drink or do you need more time?" Her eyes went to their hands, and she smiled.  

"Actually," Michael sat back picking up the menu as she did so. "I'll start with orange juice and a large order of strawberries and cream."

"And I'll start with coffee."

"Alright, I'll get drinks and come back for your orders."

Bev left to check on her other tables, and Michael set her menu down.

"I already know what I want."

"What are you getting?" Gabriel asked studying the menu. "This does look a lot better anything I've ever seen in an IHOP."

"Of course it does. I have great taste."

"You do."

He smiled at her and Michael found herself gazing into his eyes as he started stroking the back of her hand again.

"We're never going to figure out your order," she said softly.

"Right," Gabriel looked back at the menu.

"Why don't you get the apple pancake and a side of andouille hash?"

"Hash? I've eaten plenty of hash."

"Trust me this hash isn't like anything you've eaten in the mess hall."

Gabriel chuckled. "That apple pancake does look damned good."

"You'll like it," she said thinking of his sweet tooth.

Michael got the sensation of someone watching her then and turned her head just in time to see a bleached-blonde white woman, perhaps a little older than herself, at the table across from them watching her. The woman sat at a large circular table with several other women all in professional dress; they looked like they were having some sort of brunch meeting.

"What is it?" Gabriel's gaze followed hers.

"Same old, same old." Michael made a face, and he nodded.

"Some people lack home training."

Bev returned with the orange juice, coffee and strawberries and cream just then.

"Here you guys are. Ready to order?"

Michael got the crepes, and Gabriel took her suggestion on the pancakes getting a side of ham and sausage rather than the hash though.

Michael turned her attention to the tray of strawberries and cream. There was a little dish of fresh, perfectly sliced, bright red strawberries; all flushed a soft pink down the center on a paper lace doily and two little ceramic pots one a rich, heavy cream and the other confectioner's sugar. Michael was generally thoughtful about the fats and sugars she ate, but not when she was here.

Gabriel studied the tray with a tilt of his head, and Michael smiled. He was intrigued.

She spooned several teaspoons of sugar into the cream, stirring the little post with care, making certain that it didn't spill.

"This looks pretty serious."

"I thought this was the kind of thing that all you genteel southern ate," Michael did her best Scarlet O'Hara impression, and Gabriel chuckled.

"That's a Carolina accent, and we're new money, carpetbaggers, we don't have any genteel taste."

Michael chucked and filled the empty dish with strawberries before carefully pouring the sweetened cream over them.

"Here, you get the first taste," Michael said feeding him the first spoonful of strawberries and cream and sweeping an errant drop from his lower lip with a smile just as there was a loud scoff in the dining room.  She looked up to see the bleached blonde woman, an angry frown on her face, glower at her before looking away.

Before she and Ash dated, Michael had dated primarily black men, but also a few white men. The judgemental or hateful looks -typically from white women and black men- were not unfamiliar to her. Even in Trump's America it rarely amounted to more than that. When it did it was usually Black men that would not have normally given her the time of day -she was too thin for a lot of them- hitting on her while Gabriel was in the bathroom and vice versa. It didn't make it any less tiresome.

"It's good," Gabe said voice low before sitting back in his seat. "You can always tell the attention seeking type," Gabriel said speaking loud enough for the other table to hear. "Desperate for approval, cleavage everywhere, inappropriately short skirt at work, bleached-blonde hair, tacky."

Michael stole a surreptitious look at the blonde and had to bite her lower lip to keep from laughing the woman's mouth worked, face red as she looked everywhere, but at their booth.

She looked back at Gabriel and giggled at his smug, self-satisfied expression.

"You sure shut her up."

He only shrugged and started stroking the back of her hand again.

"Did you remember to bring your camera?"

"Yes."

"After the garden maybe we can look at a couple of exhibits."

"Yeah, sure. You're such an adorable little nerd."

Gabriel was massaging her hand now.

"Why do I have to be a nerd?"

"Because you played hooky from work to go to an art museum."

"And what should I be doing?"

"Drink a few beers, smoke, watch porn, that's what most people do."

"Well since I'm a grown-up and that sounds like what high school kids do when they play hooky we're going to The Art Institute."

"You're such a cute little nerd." He gave her a quick kiss and Michael couldn't help, but smile.

"Okay, Mr. Take-a-Girl-to-the-Adler-Planetarium-on-the-First-Date."

"Well to win nerd, you gotta think like a nerd."

"That includes following her science dedicated YouTube and coming to her lectures."

"Whatever it takes," Gabriel sighed heartily as if it were a true sacrifice.

He was still close enough to kiss, but Bev returned with their food wearing the same amused smile she'd worn earlier.

She delivered all their food Michael found her eyes drawn to Gabriel's food.  

"That's not a pancake that's a souffle," Gabriel said, and Michael smiled at that. The apple pancake was this big fluffed up pancake, topped with thin freshly sliced apples and sprinkled with cinnamon and sugar and baked until the apples caramelized, crispy yet tender. It came to the table still sizzling, its fragrance wafting over them.

Michael took a deep breath, savoring how wonderful it smelled.

"That looks so good," she opened her eyes to see Gabriel watching her suspiciously.

"What?" She said using her fork to cut into the crepes.

"Michael, is this gonna be one of those situations where you eat your food and my food?"

"No," Michael shook her head emphatically. "I just want a little."

It was Gabriel's turn to look down at her with pursed lips.

"Eat your food," he said and cut into the first bite of his pancake-souffle and Michael watched him waiting for his reaction.

He ate and started nodding almost immediately.

"That is good, wow it's really good."

"Told you."

"You did sweetheart."

"So," Michael said extending her fork to his plate only to have her hand swatted.

She gasped and pouted at him, and Gabriel shook his head, rolling his eyes before sighing with resignation.

"Go ahead."

Michael grinned and helped herself savoring that mix of sweet-tart apple and fluffy pancake. They talked as they ate, sharing food and flirting. There wasn't anymore scoffing just a delicious sugary, carb-laden meal cooked to perfection with plenty of fresh fruit and rich, heavy cream.

"That was quite a meal," Gabe said as he finished.

"Told you."

"Yes, you did sweetheart."

He twined his fingers with hers for a moment.

"You need the bathroom?"

"Nope."

"Alright, I'm gonna use the facilities."

While he was gone Michael paged through the pictures she'd taken of their food. Since several of her co-workers followed her on Instagram, she'd post them tomorrow.

She wasn't much of a Facebook user, but she liked to use Instagram to let her YouTube followers get a little peek into her life. Letting them feel like they knew her or had a personal connection made a big difference.

She didn't have to be sick to take a discretionary day, but her co-workers didn't need to know she was out having brunch while they were working. Pictures saved she touched up her lipstick just as Gabe returned to the table.

"I took care of the bill, you ready?"

She nodded and let him help her up.

"So Uber?"

"Actually the bus is kitty corner, and it will drop us off right in front."

"I don't have any more cash."

"That's okay we can use my Ventra card."

"Why am I not surprised you have Ventra card?" He said holding the door for her as they left the restaurant. "Do you ever drive anywhere? Do you even own car?"

"Well you know there's this very nice man who spoils me, drives me everywhere, he's very insistent, picking me up dropping me off, my car is gathering dust."

"Sounds like a chump."

"I'll tell Dave you said that," Michael said with a wink.

They made their way to the bus stop, and Michael had a seat while Gabriel stood leaning against the glass wall of the shelter watching for the bus as if he could force it to appear by the will of his gaze alone.

"We've got two minutes until the next bus and then five minutes if we don't want that bus."

"Why wouldn't we want the first one?"

"Do you ever use the busses? This is the last stop before it goes express so it might be packed."

Michael turned out to be right the first bus was packed the door, but the one behind it was an eight-wheeler with plenty of seats. Gabe found them two seats together while she took care of their fare.

She took the window seat, and Gabe settled in beside her settling an arm around her shoulders, without thinking about it Michael reached up and took his hand.

The bus pulled onto Lakeshore Drive, and Michael looked out at the lakefront: the tree full and bright green some still flowering, the grass was thick and lush until it met the sand, the water blue rich and sparkling and the people walking, biking and running.

It was a pleasant, albeit short trip that was over almost too soon. They sat side-by-side watching it roll by that endless blue sparkling with scattering sunlight filling the horizon like an endless sea. Occasionally Gabriel whispered some observation in her ear.

They reached downtown quickly the bus slowing as it pulled off Lakeshore Drive and onto the crowded Michigan Ave. Still, the late morning traffic wasn't that bad, and soon they alighted right in front The Art Institute of Chicago.

From the street, the South Garden didn't look like anything much of anything. A few very basic trees and flowers no more interesting than what you'd find on any street in the city, but then you walked down a short flight of concrete stairs, and the sounds of Michigan Ave, the street, the city disappeared as you passed beneath a canopy of trees covered in tiny white flowers.

The garden was laid out in a grid with trees in marble planters their branches spreading to shade the garden and hide it from the street, their trunks covered in delicate vines. In the center, there was a shallow pool with a fountain of jets bubbling clearing blue water. At the far end, there was a great sculpted fountain reminiscent the Greco-Roman designs of the world fair. Five women, great looming statues representing the five Great Lakes that let this region flourish stood pouring water into the pool.

The space had the feel of quiet magic about it and Michael looked at Gabe to see him slipping his camera out absently as he took in the space, wonder clear in his face.

"Told you," Michael said taking hold of his arm.

"You did."

* * *

 

In downtown Chicago, a Friday evening in late May had a special kind of energy. Stop lights, the lights of cars, the traffic noise, honking horns, catchy pop and rap tunes blaring from stores, and the dying light of day giving way to night all set the scene for a night on the town.

People crowded the sidewalks dressed for a night out at some of the city's most popular restaurants, clubs, and exclusive parties. Couples on dates, large groups of young people in trendy brand-named clothing, families out for a night of fun, and groups of tourist looking for a party made their way up and down the broad sidewalks of Michigan Avenue.

Michael Burnham was one of those people. She'd trade the black and white outfit she'd worn that morning for a camel colored, close fitted shirt dress and a trendy pair of camel colored flats with ankle straps that zipped up the back. Sunglasses, a wide black leather belt with a matching clutch and chunky wooden bracelet completed the look to form a chic silhouette.

The express bus dropped her off a block-and-a-half from the Grand Luxe Cafe, and Michael joined making their way along Michigan Avenue in search of a good time.

Amanda and Sarek had offered to pick her up, but she'd declined there was no reason for them to fight the remnant of rush hour traffic when she could just take the express bus and have smooth sailing.

She was a little early though so Michael strolled along studying windows of various stores Sabon, the Hilligoss gallery, even Forever 21's cheap offerings and dropped cash in the cups of the homeless people she passed.

She reached the cafe it was crowded as always, the opulent decorations a match for anything built during Chicago's golden age of architecture. Spock and Nyota were there ahead of her, and she found the couple at the bar. Nyota in a bright yellow fit and flare, collared dress her long straight loose and styled with a simple center part and Spock in a black dress shirt and close-fitted slacks.

Nyota and Spock greeted her with a hug.

"Hey, girl."

"Sister you're looking well."

"You both look great."

"Thank you," the pair said in unison.

"Michael, please have a seat and tell us how you are."

Michael settled on a stool between the pair and the bartender appeared. She ordered a Midori Sour and turned her attention toward catching up with the pair before their parents arrived.

She talked to them primarily about work and Black Girls Stem and a few other things. She hadn't told Spock about Gabriel and didn't intend to just yet.

When she'd exhausted her news which wasn't much Michael turned her attention toward Spock and Nyota.

"How's your research going?"

Spock's eyes shone; he was more than pleased to talk about his work. He'd only finished his Doctorate work recently and gotten a position at the University of Illinois in their Department of Physics. It was another 5 years of research, but it was also a salaried position. They were all proud of him, and it was Michael's turn to listen as he talked about his work, and the potential benefits of his research in creating a new energy resource. Michael had to admit it was fascinating even if it was a field she'd never found compelling.

Spock was just finishing his first work story when Amanda and Sarek arrived. There was another round of hugs and greetings and then they were buzzed for their table.

Amanda wore a trendy green pants suit with cropped pants and a pair of low-heeled silver flats, her hair in a low, loose bun. Sarek was dressed much like Spock only in a soft wheat.

"You girls look so pretty and Spock you look so very handsome." Amanda complimented them as they were seated.

There was more casual conversation as they ordered appetizers and a second round of drinks.

They typically managed to have dinner as a family once a month alternating between some of Chicago's finest restaurants and home-cooked meals prepared at their respective homes and apartments. Next month it would be her turn to host.

They talked easily discussing their jobs, sharing stories from the last month, and discussing upcoming outings.

Sarek had taken work as a professor at Northwestern University teaching ethics. He was one of the many ambassadors that been simply dropped from their position with no explanation when Trump took office.

So, of course, there was also a hearty discussion on politics and late-stage capitalism.

Throughout dinner, Michael had been having a surreptitious text conversation with Gabriel. After a full meal, a couple of cocktails, and a relaxing evening her family Michael gave herself away as she snickered at a joke from Gabriel.

An arched eyebrow and a subtle tilt of the head from Sarek let her know she'd been caught.

"You've been distracted all evening Michael something amusing under the table?"

She bit her bottom lip unsure how to respond. No matter how old you got, your parents were still your parents.

"She's probably texting her boyfriend," Nyota teased.

Sarek looked intrigued, Amanda smiled, and it was Spock's turn to give her the raised eyebrow that spoke volumes.

"You're still seeing that retired navy captain?"

"Retired?" Sarek's intrigue turned into concern, and Michael sighed.

"You never did tell me how old this man is."

"Amanda, you knew Michael had a boyfriend? And how old is this man Michael?"

Michael put her hands on the table and took a deep breath.

"First of all he's not my boyfriend, and second of all he's fifty."

The table went quiet.

"Fifty? Michael, you didn't tell me this man was fifty. He's older than me; he's old enough to be your father," Amanda declared.

"Not really you would have had to have had me at seventeen which you would never do. You had Spock at 25. If you have had me at 25 or 30, then you'd be at least five or ten years older than Gabe."

Amanda and Sarek exchanged a look that said: _"do you believe this bullshit your child just spewed?"_ There was the vaguest hint of amusement in Spock's eyes.

"Their relationship meets the half your age plus seven rule,"Nyota volunteered.

"Look this shouldn't be an issue. I like Gabe," she resisted the urge to smile as she said and failed just a bit. "We're dating that's it. It's not like I'm an 18-year-old girl or some fresh from undergrad student dating her professor, I'm thirty."

"Of course Michael," Sarek said. "You are indeed an adult capable of making your own decision. What is this Gabriel like? You said he is a retired naval officer."

It was Michael's turn to share a suspicious look with Spock, they knew his tactics all too well.

"They've only been dating a month if Michael would prefer to keep her relationship private perhaps we should respect that," Spock suggested and Michael shot her brother a look of gratitude.

Sarek liked to use diplomacy to lull them into a false sense of security, let them talk tell on themselves or once they started talking cleverly talk them into agreeing with his line of thinking.

"Michael you do not have to talk to us about your relationship if you do not wish to, new relationships can be  fragile and fragile things need protecting."

"Well, you could tell him about how the two of you met," Nyota said. "You already told me and Amanda."

"It is a great story," Amanda said.

Thinking about that first meeting brought a smile to her first and stirred the light bubbly feeling she'd been having since Thursday and she couldn't think of a good reason not to share it.

She told them about Gabriel helping her with the heckler at her lecture and then waiting around to make sure she wasn't harassed on her way to the car. Everyone seemed at least a little impressed. Concluding it was better to satisfy their curiosity Michael talked a bit more about Gabe as they finished dinner telling them a bit about what kind of person he was, telling them casual, surface things like photography or some of the naval stories he'd shared with her.

And she had to admit, she liked talking about him, about the two of them and the way Nyota and Amanda seemed especially impressed. And though she waited for it Sarek didn't ask any uncomfortable questions or make a signal comment about Gabriel's age which meant, of course, he was saving up whatever he had to say. He was just letting her feel heard before he presented her with his confounding and irrefutable logic.

* * *

 

"Michael," Sarek said as the car pulled up in front of her apartment building. "I'd like you to consider something. It seems that you really like this man and that the two of you are very compatible. However, I would like to express two concerns to you."

Michael sucked her tongue, she'd actually started to believe she was off the hook.

Dinner had finished pleasantly enough and with the rush hour traffic dispersed she'd accepted Amanda and Sarek's offer to drop her off at home. The conversation in the car had shifted to Spock's birthday party, now less than a month away. They'd been really absorbed in the conversation, unfortunately not absorbed enough.

For a moment she considered telling him she didn't want to hear it but held her peace. Sarek, as always, only had her best interest at heart.

"This man no matter how charming at fifty years of age, retired from his career, with no spouse it is likely, no matter how much he   attracted to you, motivated by a mid-life crisis."

Michael's grip on her clutch tightened, but she said nothing determined to hear him out.

"You expressed in the past a wish to marry and have children. If this man has not done these things at his age, it is a strong indicator that he has no wish for them have you discussed either of these things with him?"

"He's divorced, and they had no children," Michael said remembering the photo from Gabriel's nightstand.

_-Gabriel and Anthony 200-_

"Does he want a family?" Amanda asked.

"I don't know we've only been dating a month." He'd seemed a bit uncomfortable when they'd talked about his ex-wife and kids. She'd figured it was a sore subject and hadn't brought it up again.

"Ask him about it, sweetheart. He seems to really like you, and if he does, he shouldn't mind discussing those kinds of things with you."

"I'll think about it. Goodnight Amanda, goodnight Sarek, thank you for dinner." Michael got out of the car the little bubble she'd been existing in bursting with their observations.

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- Original House of Pancakes is actually named Original Pancake House. A lot of people mess up the name though because of the similarity to IHOP. If you ever get the chance to eat at an Original Pancake House you should, as Gabriel learned their food is excellent.
> 
> Please take a moment comment say hi, let me know you're out there. I read and respond to all comments. If you haven't already done so hit the subscription button to make sure you never miss an update. Thanks again for reading.


	11. Picture Perfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael unintentionally stirs some of Gabriel's insecurities about their burgeoning relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Phoenix Gardens are absolutely beautiful if you ever get a chance to visit them you should. I did a post of the reference pics I took from my most recent visit there on Tumblr, it's linked at the bottom.

"Fetch," Gabriel threw the tennis ball a good 20 yards and Buran went bounding across the grass after it, tail high. For the moment the spring weather remained mild enough for the malamute to play safely outside. Buran caught the ball and came bounding back, delivering it with a wagging tail and a happy yip.

It was a nearly perfect spring day, a clear cloudless blue sky, grass and trees bright green, a cool, but not cold breeze blowing off the lake. In about 40 minutes he was picking Michael up. They had plans to spend the day together, he was giving her photography lessons at the Osaka garden, she'd packed them a picnic lunch, and then from there, they were heading back to his dark room, where he would show her how film was developed.

Buran came bounding back with the ball, and he threw it again thinking of the wet wipes Michael had insisted he add to the dog supplies that he kept in his car. _"You're not touching me with dog-drool hands."_

He smiled, it was going well, better than he'd ever imagined a month ago when he took her to the planetarium.

She'd practically thrown herself into his arms when he'd come to her apartment on Thursday night and then given him this dazzling smile. He'd wanted to kiss her long and deep, slide his hands over the silky pajamas she'd been wearing and the warm skin underneath, but he wasn't there for that. He was there for a night of talking and cuddling and restrained passions that reminded him of his teenage years. He'd seen a warm, open side of Michael that he'd only assumed existed.

Her much cooler reserve had been back in place by Friday morning, and even a little of the endearing awkwardness he associated with her. But that was good, he liked the idea that the brilliant, beautiful, composed young scientist on YouTube had a warm, passionate side reserved just for him.

Buran came running back with the ball then just as his phone was ringing. Gabriel pulled it out of his pocket and smiled at the picture that popped up on his screen.

"Heya, Kat!"

"Morning Gabe. Is it still morning there, right?"

"Yep."

"Alright, so how are things?"

The genuine warmth in her voice touched him. Katrina Cornwell was one of his very best friends, had been for over two decades now. He was godfather to her son Alex and had been there when she'd finally realized things just weren't going to work with Alex's father. Teased her when she'd later told him she was in love with a woman named Katherine Janeway.

_"You're a narcissist Kitty."_

_"Or I just really, really like pussy," she said with a wink, and they'd clinked their beers and laughed._

He'd been to her wedding a few years back after the legalization of gay marriage, and she'd been there for him through- through all of it.

"So I called you about next weekend."

"Of course. We're still on for lunch right?"

"Definitely, but there's a show I want to see at the Goodman. So I was thinking we'd do lunch and then head over."

"I guess."

"You don't sound to certain Gabriel. Am I getting ditched?"

It had been almost six months since he'd seen Kat and he was looking forward to her visit, but Gabriel found himself feeling some reluctance to plan his entire Saturday afternoon with her.

"You're picking this new girlfriend over me."

"I wouldn't go that far."

Katrina snorted.

"Hah, but you're not denying it!"

"Guilty as charged your honor."

"Look why don't you bring her along? I'd love to meet her."

"Actually that sounds great. Let me talk to her."

"You don't even have plans made? I need to meet this young woman. You must really be sprung, Gabe."

"I'm not sprung," he said dismissively.

"Mhmm, I looked up her YouTube she is beautiful woman and smart I could see why."

"I am not sprung."

"I know you better than anyone alive Gabriel Lorca, except your own mother. You are sprung." Kat said with delight, and Gabriel rolled his eyes.

"Are we going to this play or what Kitty?"

"Ohhh, testy, fine. We should purchase tickets today so check-in with your girlfriend and let me know."

He should probably mention that Michael technically wasn't his girlfriend, but Kitty would go her own way she always had.

"Sure. How's Alex?"

"He's good, we've got him applying for every scholarship we can find, and of course he's whining about it."

"Ha well, college costs are obscene so put his butt to work. If Alex needs anything- a letter of recommendation or help with an essay just let me know."

"Of course."

"And how's Kathy?"

"She's good, now that you've moved to Chicago she keeps bringing it up to try and get me to agree to move back to the midwest."

"It's a beautiful city."

"Yeah, I vaguely recall some whining about your frozen feet just a few months ago, no thanks."

Gabriel grimaced at the memory, he had not been ready for Chicago winters.

The conversation moved on, and they agreed on a time and place for lunch; call ending with a promise to speak with Michael and follow-up with Kat sometime this evening. He finished up Boo's walk, dropped her off at doggie daycare and left to pick up his girlfriend, yeah he liked the sound of that.

Gabriel made sure to be at her place just a few minutes early. Michael was ready when he arrived, buzzing him up and greeting him with a smile.

She looked gorgeous as always in a powder blue and white horizontal striped shirt dress, but with one of those figure skater skirts and flat shimmery silver ankle strap sandals with silver beads. A perfect look for a perfect spring day.

She'd changed her hair; the halo was gone, transformed into coily-curls, still soft and cloudy, but floating down beyond her shoulders. He wanted to tangle his hands in it. Instead, Gabriel simply smiled and greeted her with a hug savoring the press of her soft form against him and the rose fragrance that wafted up from her skin before giving her quick kiss and tugging at one gleaming coil.

"Hello, gorgeous."

"Hey yourself handsome."

"You ready?"

"Mhmm."

Gabriel took the picnic basket in one hand, and hers with the other and they headed out.

He held the car door for Michael as always before stowing the picnic basket in the trunk.

Michael directed him first to Lake Shore Drive and then down a little side lane that he'd never seen before that ran along all the lakefront parks. Flowering trees overhung the lane as it wound past docks for the local yacht club and a golf course that he hadn't even realized existed.

"There's a golf course back here?"

"Yup, the South Shore Cultural Center used to be a country club."

"Oh," Gabriel nodded. "I might have to see if I can get in a game."

"You golf?"

"Sometimes. How was family dinner?"

"It was good, we get together as a family once a month at least. I hadn't seen Spock in a while so it was nice to see him and it just, you know, feels special to be with everyone at once."

"Sounds like you all are really close."

"We are. Have you had a chance to eat at the Grand Luxe Cafe?"

"Yeah, they make an excellent beef bourguignon. Is that where you all went?"

"Mhmm. My parents are still hopelessly in love." Michael smiled indulgently. "They're just waiting for Spock to pop the question. He and Nyota have been together for three years now."

"Why hasn't he?"

"We should park here on the right," Michael said indicating a small lot with several open spaces. "We can walk the rest of the way."

"You sure?" Gabriel asked. He'd pulled up pictures of the Osaka Gardens online. The park he saw here looked very ordinary, and there were just more boats on the water.

"Yeah, we have to walk through the park to get to the gardens."

"Got it." Gabriel pulled into a parking space.

"I think Spock will propose soon, actually. He's finally in the research phase of his doctorate and has a good stipend, and of course, Nyota has been working for about two years now."

"Smart. What about you? You get pressured to find a husband."

"Yeah, of course, husband and kids. _"You're so smart, and pretty if you would just put yourself out there, I'm sure you'd be married already._ "  Michael mimicked her adoptive mother's tone, and Gabriel chuckled at that, but then the car got quiet, and he could feel the discomfort radiating off her.

One thing that hadn't come up between them in a month's worth of dating was the future. Gabriel knew he had avoided any hint of it deliberately.  He did like Michael a lot, more than he'd liked anyone in a long time, sprung didn't begin to cover it if he were, to be honest with himself.

She was brilliant and beautiful, the connection between them was getting stronger, deeper. There were moments when he thought she was the best thing to happen to him in a long time, certainly since he'd left the navy.

But he didn't fool himself into thinking she was interested in settling down with a man nearly twice her age no matter what he thought about it, but she'd brought it up now no matter how roundabout.

"Do you want those things, husband, kids," he asked easing his car into the space and keeping his eye on the rearview mirror.

She hesitated a moment before answering.

“Yeah," she looked at him directly now the same way she had before telling him she was a virgin. "Do you want those things?"

"A wife," his eyes slid to her of their own accord, "yes. I liked being married the first time. Kids," he paused thinking briefly of his son before putting that memory away. "I did before, but it's not something I've thought about for a long time. Come on."

He got out of the car and went around to Michael's side holding the door for her as always.

"Is it off the table for you though? Kids I mean."

"Why Michael, you wanna have my babies?" He asked it in a teasing manner but felt a flush of heat all through his loins at the idea.  Michael ducked her head, and Gabriel didn't need to see it to know she was blushing, but then she surprised him by looking back up and pushing her sunglasses down on her nose a playful smile turning up the corners of her mouth.

"Are you offering Gabe?"

He chuckled at that.

"What I'm suggesting is that we go through the motions," he explained.

"The motions, I see."

"Do you? My apartment is close I have a nice big bed there, accommodates two easily and I don't mean to brag, but I'm sure you would enjoy yourself."

Michael laughed and then pretended to consider.

"Pass. I really want to go take some pictures. I studied and everything."

"You studied for our date?" Gabriel shook his head, following her mood change. "Come on nerd let's go take some pictures."

Michael rolled her eyes, but there was a smile on her lips as he draped an arm over her shoulders before giving her an impulsive kiss.

The stroll to the Osaka Gardens was a pleasant walk through Jackson Park the path taking them through the Douglas conservatory a small wooded area that quickly blocked out the sounds of traffic and the city.

Michael told him about a visit she'd made to the gardens with her parents and her childhood best friend, a girl name Elisabeth, back when it was still called the Japanese gardens. Apparently, the two girls had loved the garden especially the grotto with a waterfall that had served as a site for action sequences featuring Barbie jumping over and parachuting into a waterfall.

"Haven't seen or thought about her in years."

"You should look her up."

"Maybe, we lost touch after everything with my parents." Michael talked about her birth parents easily enough, but never anything to do with their deaths. He gave her hand a squeeze, and she squeezed back.

"This is new," Michael said as the path curved around, and they spotted several curved pieces of gleaming stainless steel vaguely reminiscent of flower petals rising up out of the grass each a good two feet taller than them.

One of the things Gabriel had learned was that the city of Chicago had random sculptures everywhere.

"Some kind of flower?"

"Looks like."

A quick scan of the sign next to it proved correct, it was lotus blossom, sculpture by Yoko Ono of all people, her only permanent installation in the U.S.

Michael and Gabriel weren't exactly impressed, but children seemed to like it. There were several of them dark-skinned and dark-haired playing hide and seek amongst the petals while their parents looked on indulgently.

The entrance to the garden was just a few feet away, gated with a curved roof commonly associated with Japanese and East Asian architecture, and marked with a sign that said Phoenix Gardens, apparently there had been another name change.

Michael insisted on stopping and reading what looked to be an essay under the new name, reading some bits out loud. The garden dated back to the World's fair which was not new information, however, there had been an entire pavilion and Phoenix temple gifted to the city by Japan with instructions on how to treat and care for the gift. All of which had been honored until World War II, the temple itself had been vandalized and eventually burned down in the '50's,

Michael sucked her tongue on the last.

"Ass-holes."

Gabriel looked at her in surprise on that.

"There could have been an entire temple here if some bigoted ass-holes hadn't burned it down, Gabe. Think about that an entire temple."  She pouted her disappointment and Gabriel rubbed her back her soothingly.

"Let's go take our pictures."

"Yeah," she said tone subdued.

"You're really bothered by this."

"I am, it's just maddening. History destroyed because of some temporary hostilities between two countries." Michael shook her head. "Come on."

The brick-lined, red gravel path branched right and left into the garden. The narrow path forcing them to go single file on their walk. They walked the length of the Osa --Phoenix Gardens from end to end following red gravel paths as they branched through different areas of the garden.

The garden itself  --built around a small pond-- sat right on the edge of a lagoon of sparkling blue water. Filled with flowering shrubs and trees, a striking coffee maple, the waterfall that had so impressed Michael as a girl, a half-moon bridge and several shrines that made Gabriel wish he read Japanese he understood why Michael had wanted to bring him here.

"There are so many different birds in the city now." Michael pointed out a heron taking a drink at the waterfall. "I think it's great they couldn't live in the city before."

Gabriel thought about the goose dung that littered some of the parks.

"I suppose."

"It means the environment is healthier for everyone."

"Right."

They completed their first circuit stopping in a little pavilion.

"Alright, you ready to take some pictures."

'Yes."

"Now if I know you at all Michael I know I don't need to go over the camera specs with you."

"Nope. The Leica M7 offer aperture-priority auto-exposure via a horizontal cloth focal-plane shutter with electronically timed speeds of 4-1/1000 second, mechanical shutter speeds of 1/60 and 1/125 sec along with classic M-series features such as the 6-frame 0.72x range/viewfinder flash speeds of up to 1/1000 sec and dedicated Metz flash units,  exposure setting details in the viewfinder." Michael smiled triumphantly.

Gabriel shook his head bemused.

"Impressive, that knowledge'll come in handy."

Her smiled broadened, and Gabriel made a mental note that she almost looked a little too pleased with herself.

"I'm sure you already thought about what you want to photograph. Since we're doing landscape photography, we can't change the composition of our shots, but you can use the camera to evoke a mood or to allow a particular feature to dominate a shot. You can make everything in the background fuzzy and unfocused while say--" he paused looking around eyes landing on small shrine. "This shrine is in clear contrast that type of choice lets the picture tell the story you want to tell."

Michael nodded.

"Framing is important too."

"What do you mean?"

"For example. You've got these flowers here." He indicated a clump of little pink flowers growing between two trees. "Or those there." He pointed to an area covered with the same flowers on the other side of the flowers.

"Same flower, different pictures," Michael said.

"Exactly, you're catching on already.," Gabriel smiled. He shared a few more tips and pointers about using the light to create effects or deliberately under or overexposing a photo. Michael listened attentively as he talked nodding along and asking pertinent questions.  Gabriel found himself looking forward to seeing her photos.

"You think you're ready to get started?"

"Yes."

Michael took the camera from him with a grin, studied the knobs and buttons a moment before setting off with a determined look on her face.

He settled on some rocks, overlooking the waterfall and most of the garden.  Terry had never hovered over him when he was taking pictures. Instead, they discussed the shots later in the darkroom, the older man offering suggestions or asking questions about his choices. Michael was certainly smarter and more trustworthy than a he had been at 12 years-old.

So instead he sat with the picnic basket and watched as she picked her shots.

Several of them were predictable, the ones that everyone would photograph: the half moon bridge, the dome of the Museum of Science and Industry itself at the northern end of the gardens, the waterfall...She did take a moment to photograph the flowers he'd pointed out growing between the two trees.

As he watched her his thoughts turned briefly to the conversation in the car. He'd teased her when she probed him about whether or not he could see himself as a parent in the future, but that didn't really matter. He was too old for second chances in that area. Even if there was a part of him that maybe wanted one. He wasn't going to lie to her about that.

_Michael waved at him to get his attention, and he waved back giving her a smile._

If it was a problem for her, it was certainly her right know he felt that way, even if that meant she stopped seeing him.

He frowned at the thought and told himself not to worry about it. It was a beautiful day, they were out in beautiful surroundings, and he was with a beautiful woman, anything could happen.

He scanned the garden for Michael and found her gazing out at the lagoon and the tree-lined shore on the other side. She took a couple pictures and started moving again.

She looked absolutely adorable, face thoughtful as she considered her pictures, the occasional breeze ruffling her skirt and tugging on her hair.  Eventually, she made her way to where he sat.

"You done?"

"Not yet. There's four more pics on this roll, smile."

He obliged offering his most winning smile.

"Good, now 'um, flex."

Gabriel laughed but got to his feet, pushing the sleeves of his pullover up to display his forearms before crossing his arms.

"Good?"

"Yes." She took that and two more shots before handing the camera over.

"You ready to eat?"

"Not quite."

"Good cause I'm gonna shot a roll. Come on."

They went to a few quiet corners, out of the way spots not as immediately impressive as the rest of garden, stones blanketed in baby moss surrounding a shrine, a heron stopping for a drink or a coffee maple thriving in a corner off the beaten path. He took several pictures explaining to Michael why he selected them and what he expected the outcome to be. There was a sense of stillness here that deserved to be captured, the quieter less noticeable corners exemplified it.

And then, of course, there was the beautiful woman with him, she was a much more interesting subject to him than the gardens. It took a little coaxing, but Michael was an excellent subject, expressive eyes and very confident, her dark skin reflecting the sun, so there was a soft glow about it. He spent most of the second roll on her before they settled down to eat.

They settled on a grassy slope near the edge of the water, spreading a red gingham picnic blanket on the ground. Michael pulled quite a spread out of her picnic basket. A carafe of an almost unnaturally pink lemonade, frosted with condensation. A caprese salad with bright red tomatoes, thick white pieces of mozzarella and vibrant green leaves of basil. There was also a second salad with strawberries and mangos, and spring rolls and in a fine clear wrap and a plate of lemon bars for dessert.

"Did you make all of this?" He asked a little surprised.

"I made it get here," Michael answered, and he chuckled at that.

"Made or selected it looks great."

The picnic basket had a thermal lining and ice packs; everything was chilled and fresh. Gabriel poured out glasses of lemonade while Michael made their plates. They ate and talked and when they'd done Gabriel encouraged Michael to stretch out beside him on the blanket so they could gaze out at the water.

He put an arm around her shoulders and her familiar rose perfume wafted over him. He studied her as she watched the water, let his eyes trace the long column of her neck, the rise and fall of her plump breast and the fabric of her dress draped over them, her arms long and slender, but muscular and well-defined. _She really was beautiful._

"Gabe," Michael propped herself up on one elbow her other hand resting lightly on his chest.

"What?"

"What did you imagine for your future when you left the navy? I know you wanted to pursue photography, but what else?"

"Move here, see if I liked it as much as I thought I would. Get a house if I did. Enjoy the money I saved while in the military, do some freelance photography. Get a wife at some point, maybe start a consulting business."

"You liked being married before?"

"You bet," he sat up now. "I know the stereotype, but I loved being married, most men do, when it works of course."

"Really?"

"You have someone that you love more than anyone else, you share the things that are most important to you with each other, you're with each other most of the time, and  you take care of one another, and it's beautiful."

"So what happened? To your marriage I mean if you loved it so much," Gabe could see genuine curiosity in her expression and swallowed feeling a sudden sense of panic. He shifted his focus to the lagoon, the rippling water, the distant shore, and took a deep breath.

He should tell her, he'd made some terrible mistakes in his marriage with Ava, but he wasn't that person anymore. She'd confided in him, but this, his marriage it wasn't the same as Michael's secret. Being a noob, even an old noob wasn't anything to be ashamed of. Some of his mistakes though-

"Gabriel, you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

He looked at her, at the fact that she was letting him off the hook.

"I want to. I was just, just trying to figure out where to start."

"Oh-ok."

"The first few years were good, but naval life sends you all over the globe, and there came a point when we were apart more than we were together. I'd be at sea for months, then she'd be at sea for months. We assumed that we could put, no let our marriage last and chose things like making money over it. Resentments grew on both sides, and at the same time I took her, I took what we had for granted. I didn't understand how fragile and delicate it was until it was completely broken."

"Oh, I'm sorry Gabe." She laid a gentle hand on his forearm. He smiled, but couldn't bring himself to meet her eyes. _Would she be this sympathetic if he gave her the dirty details?_

"It was a long time ago now."

"What would you do differently?"

He smiled, relieved at a question he could answer.

"That's an easy one. I'd put my marriage over my career."

"Really," she cocked her head to one side. "But you seemed to love it, the navy I mean."

"I did. I still do. There's a lot of good values there, and it's given me a lot, let me make a way for myself without my family, but it's also taken a lot, and the exchange wasn't equal. Now we have that horse in the hospital* and frankly-" he paused a moment knowing that some would find his next words controversial. "We don't take care of our vets, we make war for money- It got to the point where I could no longer do my duty with honor so  when the time came I chose not to re-enlist and let my contract expire." He shifted, so he was facing her directly. "I'm lucky, my rank was pretty high, I earned plenty of money-"

_-with no family to take care of-_

"and I came out without any severe physical or mental health problems."

The last bit wasn't entirely true, but he'd avoided the biggie, PTSD.

"Wow."

'What?"

"The picture of the military, a soldier is always that they are 100% committed. You don't really think of them as criticizing the institution."

"Who better to criticize an institution than those who have been a part of it."

"Touche."

They both fell silent, and Gabriel saw his opportunity to steer away from the subject altogether.

"Michael, we've still got a few good hours of daylight left. Did you want to take any more pictures?"  

She considered a moment.

"I think I took enough. I played around with the shutter speeds and aperture. I think I want to see the results of my decisions."

"Alright then let's go develop some pictures."

They packed up the picnic and Gabriel helped Michael to her feet settling an arm around her waist.

"You enjoying your day so far sweetheart?"

"Absolutely."

"Good," he kissed her forehead, and they started back to the car, but again Gabriel found his mind on his doubts and insecurities. He tightened a worried arm around her waist pressing her close.

"Everything ok?" Michael questioned, a hint of worry in her tone.

"Yeah, everything is fine."

* * *

A/N- the "horse in the hospital" is a reference to a bit about The Cheetoh (I do not say his name) in John Mulaney's current stand-up routine, Kid Gorgeous. It's very funny you can watch it on Netflix.   
  
  
A/N- So I'm basically giving everyone the values I think Starfleet officers might have. Since Gabe is mostly PU Lorca --with a bit borrowed from MU's backstory, nobody's perfect-- I figure he would eventually become a bit jaded and cynical about our modern military.  
  
  
A/N- I visited the Phoenix Gardens this weekend to refresh my memories. You can check out the reference [pics](http://mrsmichaellorca.tumblr.com/post/174288451470/so-the-next-chapter-of-adoration-takes-place) I took, my descriptions don't do it justice. If you ever get a chance to visit Chi-town make sure the check out the Phoenix Gardens no matter what time of the year.  
  


 

 


	12. Dark and Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael is nosey, Gabriel is hot, unintended hOAp vibes, things get heated in the darkroom, and Gabriel puts his silver tongue to good use.

It was rectangular four simple lines like probably hundreds of thousands if not millions of others just around the world. There were some nice details, gleaming chrome frame, recessed mirror, a grip in the bottom right corner hidden so the line of the frame was not disturbed, but there so it pulled open with a slight tug.

Of course, she had no reason to open it. Everything she needed was on that rectangular basin liquid soap, an olive green hand towel hanging on a holder, unscented lotion.

She reached out to pull it open, with a sight tug, fingertips curving under the grip. It didn't budge. Michael pulled a little harder and the cabinet opened with a pop, the force knocking several bottles from their shelves, scattering a cartoon of floss-toothpicks, sending a rain of band-aids fluttering down to the gray tiles, as bottles of Tylenol and aspirin clattered into the porcelain sink, making Michael jump as she glanced worriedly at the door. When there was no telltale sound of footsteps in the hall, no indication that her transgression had been heard she sighed and bent to clean-up her mess. 

She gathered the pill bottles and flipped on the water to cover the sound of her fumbling on the floor for band-aids and toothpicks. The band-aids went back into their box and the toothpicks in the trash. The bottles: Tylenol, aspirin, Neosporin all went back into the medicine cabinet. She made sure the contents were neatly and carefully stowed and studied them a moment. There were no secrets hidden there, no answers to her unasked questions about Anthony or her own sudden conflict. She shut the cabinet with a relieved click.

She'd almost asked him about it directly when he'd told her that he and Ava had not had any children, but she'd have to explain how she knew about Anthony in the first place. She didn't think checking out his bedroom when he wasn't there was the worst offense one could commit. It hadn't even been her plan to snoop, she'd just wanted to know what his bedroom was like. Still, she didn't want to admit to being nosey in the first place.

Michael washed her hands and checked her appearance one last time. Her twist-out looked great, hair falling loose around her shoulders in gleaming black coils, red lipstick bright and shiny, silver teardrop hoops adorned her ears. At least she looked good.

With a sigh, Michael turned away from her reflection and rested her weight on the sink, primarily annoyed with herself.

She wasn't supposed to know about Anthony, Sarek had very calmly and rationally gotten into her head about Gabriel, and she really didn't know what to think about it any of it.

Friday morning she'd been incredibly happy. Now she found herself conflicted over something that didn't even matter at this point, they'd only been dating a month, but then Sarek and Amanda had gotten together right away, and her own parents had been high school sweethearts. Relationships didn't move according to a set schedule there was no checklist for when they should be thought of as short or long term, serious or casual.

Marriage, family, kids these were things she wanted in her life, her own blood to keep close to her, to care for and love.  Kids or no kids it was a dealbreaker, right?

Perhaps Sylvia had had it right from the beginning just sleep with Gabriel and take care of her so-called _"problem"._ Her jaw clenched at the wrongness of that thought, and Michael told herself to relax.

_This was ridiculous._

They'd been having a perfectly good time this past month and even this morning. She'd known Sarek and Amanda would be protective and she knew the way Sarek could get in her head. She was the one dating Gabriel though not her parents and the relationship, such as it was, was hers not theirs. So far she liked it just fine. Was she supposed to stop seeing Gabriel just like that for some future relationship that might never materialize?

She hadn't been this happy with another person in a long time, and she wasn't going to let her parents or her own worries ruin it. If it didn't work out because of kids or anything else, well she could be happy for sixth months or something and figure the rest out later.

As for Anthony, Gabriel didn't know everything about her life or her past yet either. A sense of relief washed over her and felt the start of a smile. Feeling markedly better Michael pulled open the bathroom door and made her way back down the hall, sun-warmed, honey-colored floorboards creaking underfoot.

Gabriel had converted the second bedroom in his apartment into a darkroom and studio. Like her apartment, the second bedroom had its own bathroom, which made clean up after developing film or an afternoon spent painting convenient. Along one wall stood a long work table and cabinet with all his camera, film developing and printing equipment, on the wall opposite there was a worn and faded couch and on the wall opposite the door he had an easel and computer desk.

She found him there now. Seated in his computer chair, he turned at the sound of her approaching footsteps, and Michael froze a moment in the doorway, stunned by how good he looked to her. The partially drawn curtains limited the afternoon sunlight so that it seemed to fall only on him and he sat straight, ankle resting comfortably atop one knee, blue eyes bright in the semi-darkness and Michael imagined herself sitting in his lap.  Sylvia's suggestion of sleeping with him seemed damned good right now.

"I thought I was gonna have to send in a search party for you."

She shook her head and swallowed.

"What is it, Michael?"

"You're just very handsome," she said.

His eyebrows jumped upwards at the unexpected compliment, and then he smiled eyes crinkling at the corners, which only served to make her heart speed up and did nothing for her frozen feet.

"Well thank you, sweetheart," he said standing. "Let's get your pictures developed, c'mere."

She walked over to the computer desk.

"Sit down. I want you to watch this tutorial on getting the film into the developer tank."

Michael frowned,"I watched several, yesterday."

"Well, watch a couple more, Michael. Remember you have to get it into the developer tank in the dark."

"I meant to ask about that, they don't mean complete dark, do they?"

"Oh yeah, color film is sensitive to all light. So sit down,  watch how it's done a few times more and then it's lights out."

The tutorial was pretty straightforward, opening the film, cutting it, putting it on the reel and then sealing it in the developer tank. Still, she was iffy about doing it in the dark, especially cutting it. There was a curve on one end of the film and then a sticker on the other she could use those as guides, perhaps. She let it play a couple more times and then they paused it.

"You ready?" He asked eyes bright, an eager little grin on his face he seemed younger all of a sudden.

Michael found herself smiling back at him and nodded.

They moved to his work table everything was laid out, camera, scissors, reel, developer tank.

"Always lay everything out the same way, makes it easier to find it in the dark. First roll is still in the camera, already wound. Ready?"

"Yup."

Gabriel had a cover that he snapped into place over the room's only window, eclipsing the afternoon sun. After that, he drew the curtains, and the room went black.

"Now you wanna give it about 20 seconds, let your eyes adjust and make sure there is no light in the room."

"Okay."

"Listen I have a friend coming in from out of town next weekend. We're going to lunch and then some show at the Goodman. We thought maybe you'd want to come."

"A friend?"

"Katrina, one of my best friends since college. The two of you would really get along I think." There was just a bit of uncertainty in his voice, and Michael wondered if she would have noticed it with the lights on.

"Oh," Michael felt bit intrigued. "Saturday or Sunday?"

"Saturday."

"I'm sorry I can't. I'm going to be working overtime at the lab."

"All day?"

"Until at least four."

"Ah," there was a twinge of disappointment in his voice.

"Sorry."

"'Nother time. What do you think? Is it dark enough?"

Michael scanned the room or tried to scan the room, but there was nothing to see, complete blackness.

"Well, I can't see anything, literally."

"Good let's get started."

Michael extended her hands forward tentatively fingers finding the woodgrain of the table first, smooth and well polished, then the camera and tools.

"How much is this camera?" Michael asked hefting its weight, so the scope was in one hand, while she ran her fingers along the back of it searching for the little latch that opened the door so she could remove the film.

"A few thousand."

The door got stuck, and she tugged it hard, nearly dropping Gabe's camera.

"Shit!"       

"Here let me help."

His footsteps creaked on the floorboards as he moved. Michael felt the heat that radiated and smelled the warm, woodsy scent of his cologne before his hands settled on her upper arms. His thumbs stroked her shoulders and slid down along her arms, nice and slow before settling on top of her hands..

"Take your time," he said gently. Gabriel steadied the camera while she tugged the door open at last and fumbled the film out.

"You got the film?"

"Yes."

"Good," he closed his right hand over hers with firm, surety. "Film here."

He guided her hand to set it down as his warm breath tickled her skin.

"Now the camera."

They set that down, and then he guided her to the scissors, ran her fingers along the film's edge. His chest was broad and muscular against her back, pushing against her gently with each in breath, and falling away with each breath out.  His firm thighs against her buttocks. Michael swallowed, fighting the urge to lean into him.

"Cut here," he guided her index finger along the curved edge of the film.

He took her through the process step-by-step.

_"Set the scissors here, guide the film onto the reel, scissors again and now cut the other end, good, good. Remember everything goes back into its place so you can find it again and again."_

His breath tickled her ear, and Michael found herself distracted remembering the way he'd come up behind her in the kitchen the night she'd invited him up for coffee.

"Your mentor didn't teach you like this," there was a heated breathlessness to her words.

Gabriel chuckled hands squeezing hers for just a moment.

"No, he made me practice over and over again on junk film."

Film loaded he guided her hand to the developer tank.

"So what is this the throw the baby in the water method?"

"Maybe a little bit, but you're not a 12-year-old boy, who's been suspended from school for beating up his classmates either."

"True, but then again maybe you just wanted an excuse to feel me up in the dark."

Another chuckle and his arms tightened around her just a bit.

"It's certainly more fun this way."

They dropped the film into the developer tank.

"Make sure it's closed up good and tight."

Michael ran her fingers along the edge of the lid, determined to concentrate despite what being pressed up against Gabe was doing to her, despite the repeated thought that she should turn around, that she should show him two could play this game.

That thought was followed by _'Then what?' Then what?' 'What would she show him?' 'How would she play?'_

"It's sealed."

"Good." He ran his finger along the edge of her hand, stroking the knuckles with his thumb. "You need to do the second roll, your pictures."

"Oh right."

"There's no film exposed, you can turn the light on if you don't remember where the second roll is."

"No," Michael said. A small part of her may have been uncertain or hesitant about the physical intimacy developing between them, but the rest of her enjoyed it, was eager- _He felt good--warm, strong, but gentle._

 _"You wanna have my babies Michael?"_ She could very, easily imagine going through the motions with him, his bedroom was only a few feet away. A pulse of pleasure ran through her and Michael felt the all too familiar wetness of arousal.

"Second roll sweetheart," he said prompting her.

"Sorry, lost in thought."

His only reply was a gentle snort, and Michael found the second roll of film and scissors with cautious hands.

They went through it again, prying the film open, cutting at either end, loading it into the reel, slotting it into a second developer tank and sealing it shut to protect the undeveloped film from the devastating effects of light.

"Alright, so the films in place. What's next?"

"Lights on, we don't handle chemicals in the dark."

"Right."

Gabriel reached around her to turn on a lamp that he'd rigged for the darkroom, flooding the room with red light.

Michael blinked eyes needing a moment to adjust. Gabriel was still behind her, and she considered turning and kissing him like she had on Thursday night in the kitchen.

"Let's get your pictures developed." He gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze and stepped away. "Do you remember how long the film needs to stay in the developer tank?"

"3 1/2 minutes."

"At least. Now, this is color film, so we don't have to work with red light, but it's good practice for black and white. Let me know if you want to change it."

"It's fine, weird but fine."

"Well, I'm not going to lecture a scientist about chemicals so have at it." Gabriel sat down in the desk chair.

Michael smiled, this was the part she felt most comfortable with, chemical reactions. She double checked the temperature of the developer, 68 degrees. Satisfied she poured the developer into the tank and set the timer.

"3 ½ minutes right?"

"Yup."

She handed the first tank to him and filled the second. They spent next three-and-a-half minutes chatting while they turned the developer tanks over and over in their hands agitating the film until the timer pinged.

They chatted while they worked. Talked about their week. She asked about Reggie, the little boy he worked with as a Big Brother. He talked about the boy enthusiastically, and Michael, annoyed with herself for wondering if he was flexible about the kids-thing changed the subject.

After the developer, it was time for the fixer and then the stop bath before washing the film. There was another timer set and Michael finding herself facing Gabe's back and grinned as a sudden thought struck her. She walked up behind him and settled her hands on his shoulders.

"Yes."

He looked down at her over his shoulder, wearing a small smile.

"Oh, nothing."

She splayed her fingers over his triceps and gave them a gentle squeeze relishing their firmness before pressing against him the way he'd pressed against her when guiding her hands to load the film onto the developer reels.

His breath quickened, and she smiled pleased with herself.

"Michael," there was a warning tone in his voice.

"Oh, this is necessary."

"Is it?"

"Absolutely."

She slid her hands down along his arms savoring the feel of firm muscles under her fingertips slowing them to stroke her hands up and down his biceps, the hairs on his arms slightly coarse under her touch as he let out a little groan. She pressed closer still enjoying the firm resistance of his body against hers.

"I'm sure it will make the pictures better."

He chuckled. "Alright sweetheart."

Michael finally let her hands come down over his, stroking his knuckles with her thumb before twining and untwining their fingers.

"You done?" He asked voice roughened.

"Not quite."

Michael stood up on tip-toe and blew a gentle breath against his ear.

"You smell so good," she whispered those words in his ear before planting a little kiss just below it. He shivered against her and  then he turned in her arms catching her wrist in a loose grip behind her back, and he stood a moment gazing down at her blue eyes hungry, lust darkened.

A pulse of excitement went through her at the hungry look and Michael felt the grip of desire low in her belly.

"Michael sweetheart." The words came out in a low drawl, heavy with promise. He raised his free hand to cup her cheek before capturing her lips in a kiss that turned her knees to water as moisture gathered between her thighs. He released her wrists and Michael slid her arms up around his neck.

The heat that was always between them manifested itself, flushing through her skin and Michael moaned into his kiss, earlier reservations consumed by its fire.

He settled a hand on her waist, and the other slid up to cup her breast. Without hesitation, she arched her back to push it fully into his palm.

Just then the timer pinged an annoyance intruding into the fog of lust clouding her mind.

Gabe pulled his lips from hers and gasped for breath while she did the same. The sight of his lips parted, swollen smeared with her lipstick made her want to capture his mouth again.

"We need to deal with the film."

"Yeah."

They stepped apart, and Michael smoothed her skirt while Gabriel rubbed at his lips smoothing away her lipstick.

"You have to get the film out of the fixer."

"Right."

It took several minutes to get the negatives rinsed and hung. It was a slow operation the newly developed film was soft, mishandling could smear or even tear it. They worked side-by-side gently washing and sponging off the film before hanging it to dry with careful fingers. All the while flirting and with glances, brushes of hands or hips and knowing smiles, the heat between them never fully abating.

"Do you remember how long we have to leave the film to dry?"

"Two hours at least."

"Good. So let's clean up and then have a break."

 

* * *

 

Michael stood blinking in the afternoon sunlight, the honey-colored wood was warm underfoot. It was still early in the day and sunlight streamed into the windows of Gabriel's living room creating a golden world, soft and warm.

Though no longer in danger from overexposure the newly developed film was fragile. Gabriel had insisted they continue working under the cooler, darker red light keeping the fragile film safe from heat or any potential damage until completely dry. The transition from cool red to white and gold made her blink and see spots for a moment.

Still, Michael made her way toward the window, eyes adjusting.

The park and the trees spread out before her lush and green, the lake cool, blue and inviting, its surface opaque yet rippling and shimmering in the sun. She raised one hand to the pane, resting light fingers on the glass. It was warm to the touch, the heat soaking into her skin. Her worries from earlier surfacing as lazy, silly thoughts that no longer made sense. Her skin still on fire everywhere that Gabe had touched her.

Michael looked over her shoulder at the sound of a creak in the floorboards and saw him standing a few feet away, gazing at her with this soft, warm smile on his face, hands in his pockets.

"What?"

Gabriel started towards her and she turned towards him now.

"Just watchin' you, standing there, haloed in sunlight like some sort of," he paused taking her hand in his stroking it. "Like some sort of earthbound angel."

Her knees went weak at the compliment and the slow sexiness of a southern drawl that washed through her like warm brandy. Gabriel traced a line up, along her arm, his hand stopping in its journey for just a moment as he stroked her collarbone with his thumb and moved closer still.

"How are you likin' you first photography lesson sweetheart?" The look in his eyes told her that photography was the last thing on his mind.

"I liked some parts of it better than others," she said eyes going to his lips.

"Really?"

His mouth was only inches from her and Michael bit her lower lip in anticipation.

The hand resting on her collarbone slid upwards to tangle in her hair and the other came up around her waist.

"How about we do in the light what we were doin' in the dark?"

Her heart sped up as his lips found hers and then he was tugging her backwards towards the couch, pulling her down so she found herself straddling his lap.

His kiss was hot and demanding, hands moving eagerly over her skin. Michael slid her hands up over his chest savoring the feeling of firm muscle beneath her fingertips before sliding them up around his neck. She pressed closer to him and he broke the kiss, taking a moment to gaze into her eyes. His lust darkened eyes seemed focused on her as if she were the only thing in the world and Michael felt that internal flutter of arousal.

His kissed her again lips moving down along her neck and over her collarbone and into the neck of her blouse.  She moaned aloud when he ground his hard-on against her and Michael found herself wondering how wet she could get.

His kisses moved down over her decolletage, the wet heat of his mouth a delicious sensation on the flesh left exposed by her powder blue lace bra and she wondered when he'd undone the top three buttons of her dress.

He tugged at her bra straps and Michael had a brief flickering thought about whether or not they should continue. In that moment he ground against her and Michael let out a little gasp. Emboldened by the heat coursing through her Michael reached up to help with her bra. First slipping her arms out of her dress so it settled at her waist.

Gabriel drew in a breath, his nostrils flaring every so slightly as he grinned in anticipation.

"What else are you gonna take off sweetheart?"

"Just watch," she pushed his hands down to her thighs, his tongue snaked out across his lips.

Michael reached behind her back and undid her bra with ease. His hands were on her shoulders in almost an instant sliding the straps down her arms.

The bra was discarded leaving her bare to his heated gaze. He shifted under her and Michael bit her bottom lip letting out a low moan as his hard-on ground against her.

"Michael, sweetheart, you are fucking beautiful."

He brought his lips back to hers and busied his hands with her breast, stroking them up and back until the nipples were completely stiffened. Then he replaced his hands with his mouth and Michael moaned out her pleasure, it felt so damned good.

He teased them, kneaded them, lavished them with attention. His mouth a hot wet, velvet heaven on her sensitive nipples. When he moved to shift her out of his lap and onto her back on the couch, Michael let him. His mouth moved lower, down along her stomach in wet kisses as he murmured praise against her skin and pushed the skirt of her dress up, bunching the fabric around her hips.

Michael had the vague excited notion that he was going to go down on her and then he pressed his face into crotch sending a jolt of pleasure through her that made her hips buck upward of their own accord.

He chuckled in response,and she gasped at  the unexpected vibration.

"Michael, darlin', you're soaking wet down here, and you smell divine."

He looked up at her, and she swallowed meeting his lust darkened eyes and her cunt clenched in anticipation of his attentions.

"I bet you taste like heaven." She shivered on those words, and he laughed her reaction before tugging at her panties.

For just a split she wondered again if things were going to go too far but then thought what the hell and lifted her butt to help him.

He peppered her inner thighs with kisses, stroked that sensitive flesh with his hands and tongue, the gentle rasp of his beard on her skin adding a pleasant if contradictory sensation. Michael felt herself clenching in anticipation as her arousal seeped forth.

He slid his hands between her lower lips, fingers moving almost reverently over her slit.

"Your pussy is so pretty darlin'."

She felt the gentle press of a kiss, the abrasion of his beard on her thigh and then that first long stroke with the flat of his tongue along the length of her slit and let out a low, breathy moan.

Already aroused and swollen the velvety, wet warmth of his tongue was a delicious sensation that made her shiver. Another stroke as hot and wet as the last one and Michael gasped out his name before feeling the vibration of another chuckle against her flesh.

"Tell me darlin'."

"I didn't," she gasped. "I didn't know, oh-"

His two fingers found her g-spot in that moment, and she let out a little keening moan while Gabe continued working the length of her slit with his tongue.

When he'd stroked her off in the kitchen on Thursday, it had been so different from when she touched herself and now this.

She couldn't think, there was no logic there was only how good he was making her feel. His hands and mouth on her cunt as she twisted and writhed caught in the grip of the pleasure he was giving her. She found her hands reaching for him. One she twined in his silk-soft hair the other around his wrist.

He swirled his tongue around the nub of her clit, suckled it and then he shifted his attention to her g-spot, while he teased her clit with his thumb in slow, steady strokes, that made her shudder and tremble with need, building a delicious tension.

"You like this darlin?"

"Yes- god- please."

"Not yet."

Michael whimpered wanting surcease from the tension building in her, but also wanting the pleasure he was giving her to go on forever.

"You can hold out a little longer darlin'?"

A whimper escaped her as he started to stroke her clit faster.

"You're so swollen and needy."

She could only moan in response as Gabriel started stroking her g-spot with the first two fingers of his other hand, making her toes curl.

"Should I let you cum lil' darlin'?"

"Oh please."

"Alright darlin'," he said tone gentle and tender and gave her slit one long final stroke from g-spot to clit, pushing her body, sensitive and ready, over the edge. Her thighs clamped round his head of their own accord as she arched upward and her entire body tensed with pleasure for one perfect moment.  Michael let out a high keening wail of relief as her pleasure poured forth in a gush of satisfaction before she sagged backward onto the couch.

Afterward, she lay breathing deeply, savoring how wonderful her body felt even as she felt Gabe shifting on the couch, tucking her skirt between her legs, his weight shifting over her.

When she opened her eyes it was too see him watching her, an expression of wonder on his face eyes still dark, beard damp and glossy, denim-clad thigh brushing hers.

"You look so pretty when you cum sweetheart I could watch it for hours."

Still caught in the grip of pleasure she thought nothing of it when he leaned down and kissed her again and tasting herself on his lips sent some clenching pleasure all through her cunt. Gabriel broke the kiss to nuzzle her neck, and the scratch of his beard on her skin was a delicious frisson. She felt the press of his hard-on against her thigh, and suddenly only one thing made any sense.

"Let's not stop here Gabe."

* * *

 Thanks for reading friends. I read all comments so please take a moment to let me know what you think and don't forget to subscribe so you never miss an update.

Also remember you can always stop by and visit me on Tumblr@ https://www.tumblr.com/blog/mrsmichaellorca :P

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahahah, sorry about the ending friends, but this chapter had to stop sometime and that seemed like an ideal moment. Worry not though Michael wants her man. So the hOAp vibes were completely unplanned (I find the ship intriguing, but I don't ship it). I hadn't actually realized that color film was processed in complete darkness. Of course when I figured that part out it seemed the perfect opportunity to for things to get heated in the darkroom.


	13. Hand in Your V-Card

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael gets her cherry popped. ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *warning brief moment of casual ableism, see endnotes for details and author commentary

_"Let's not stop here."_

He shifted position settling himself between her thighs and a pulse of anticipatory pleasure passed through her.

"What do you mean darlin?"

The subtle widening of his clear blue eyes and the sudden hopeful smile he was sporting told Michael he knew exactly what she meant.

"I mean you have a bedroom down the hall sir and just a few hours ago you promised me satisfaction, maybe you can get satisfied in the process." She pitched her voice low and breathy on the last was delighted to see his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed.

"You sure Michael?" He trailed one finger down along her hairline and cupped her cheek thumb stroking her cheekbone,  his gaze questioning. But the look in his eyes, his weight in top her the receding pleasure of the orgasm he'd just given her did nothing to make Michael doubt her choice.

"100%."

A slow sexy smile as warm as his drawl took over Gabriel's face.

"Alright, then sweetheart let's go to bed."

He gave her a quick little kiss and then shifted away getting to his feet. Michael sat up pulling her dress part way back on but not bothering to do up the buttons.

Gabriel held out a hand to her and Michael put her hand in his letting him pull her to her to her feet reveling in the firm sureness of his grip and a strength she could lean on. Hand in hand they made their way to the bedroom.

The room was as she remembered it, bed neatly made navy spread smooth and crisp, the honey-colored wood gleaming in the afternoon sun. Of their own accord, Michael's eyes flicked to the nightstand where the picture of Gabriel and Anthony stood.

The click of the bedroom door shutting drew her attention back to the moment as Gabe moved past her to pull back the bedspread and sheets before stripping out of his clothes. Watch, and ring were settled on the nightstand. Gabriel stripped out his top and jeans, leaving him naked but for a pair of soft gray boxer briefs. Her lips quirked upwards as she took him in.

The broad shoulders she'd only touched or leaned her head on, the firm muscles of his chest, arms, and abs, and a waist tapered into  thighs firm and muscular and well-shaped calves.

Having taken him in her eyes went back to his boxer-briefs and the bulge they contained, already worked up her cunt flexed in anticipation. The head of his dick, red and knobby, peaked out from the waistband of soft gray boxer briefs and he looked long and thick to her inexperienced eyes.

She'd seen photos, porn, been flashed, but this was different. She didn't have much room for comparison, but to her, he looked, well, big. He was bigger than the little pap smear wand, and that had been uncomfortable. She'd been intensely aware of his two fingers when they'd been inside of her, in a good way of course, but still very aware of them.

"Is that all I'm good for sweetheart?"  Gabriel drawled tone teasing and heat flooded cheeks. She dragged her eyes back up to his face.

"Can I?" She held out two curious hands and when he nodded she laid them on his chest, light and tentative. She had never yet been passive in their tryst, but he always took the lead. Now she slid her hands down over chest stopping just a moment to stroke his nipples with her thumbs, pleased with the sharp inhale of breath that she got for a reaction.

_Was he as sensitive as she?_

She let her hands go lower down along abs with no six pack, but still some definition before stopping an inch away from his shorts suddenly shy again.

"Go ahead Michael," he said voice low and sensuous, blue eyes heavy-lidded and nearly black. She hesitated another moment before cautiously slipping one hand downward to graze the head of his dick with her fingertips. His tongue snaked out across his lower lip in response, and she could see him watching her eyes bright with anticipation.

Emboldened by his reaction Michael slipped her hand into his shorts and palmed his length, she wrapped curious but gentle fingers around his shaft. It was hot to the touch and firm he grunted and then swallowed, eyes still on her. She stroked the length of him,  he grew hotter, and she felt him thicken and lengthen under her fingers, his dick seeming to strain towards her as if moving of its own accord.

Michael let out a little oh and heard Gabriel chuckle.

"Surprised?"

"Maybe a little."

"Just a little?" he prompted, and Michael bit her lower lip.

"Well I don't know I don't have any room for comparison," Michael said tone saucy withholding the ego stroke that would come from her admitting she was just a bit intimidated by the size of him.

He chuckled again.

"You're doin' good darlin', real good, but that's enough for now."  He pulled her hand away and tugged at the ribbon tie at the waist of her dress, pulling it loose. The material whooshed down to her ankles, and Michael felt her nipples stiffen in response to the cooler air. Then she was pulled flush against him, arm around her waist, his heat enveloping her, the hard-on she'd been stroking a moment ago pressing against her abdomen.  She settled her hands on his shoulders, and he captured her lips in a gentle kiss before walking her back toward his bed, pushing her down gently when it bumped her knees.

"Lie back."

She did as told, but he didn't join her right away.  Taking his turn to admire her, the naked desire in his gaze sending heat through her as his eyes lingered on her breast and then the V' of her thighs.

"Jesus darlin', you're so much more beautiful than I'd imagined."

He stood over her a moment gliding one hand along her inner thigh to cup her still wet pussy. Michael whimpered and arched into his hand.

"You get really wet for me don't you lil' darlin?"

"Yes," Michael said thinking of the times they'd finished a date with moisture in her pants or on the back of her dress.

"Scoot over sweetheart." Gabriel joined her on the bed stretching out beside her, his gaze heated and sensual, warming her from head to toe as he curved a hand around her hip, pulling her close.

"How are you feelin'?" He tugged on of her curls stretching it straight and before letting it spring back..

"I'm not changing my mind if that's what you're asking."

"You comfortable?"

"Yes."

"Good," he said eyes going to her lips signaling his intent. A breath later his lips were on hers, tongue warm, wet and familiar slipping into her mouth, his beard rasping her skin gently.  He pressed her close, chest hair tickling her nipples as his skin warm and smooth slid against hers. Michael let Gabriel push her onto her back feeling the press of his weight on top of her for the first time, there was something soothing in it.

He nudged her thighs apart and settled between her hips to grind against her without breaking their kiss. His hands roamed her body filling themselves with her curves giving wordless praise to the silky smoothness of her skin.

Still sensitive Michael whimpered at the friction of his hard-on pushing against her and the press of his body sending pulse after pulse through her, it was not enough to get her to a second climax, but a desperate feeling of want started to build. She pushed back against him putting her arms up around his neck and threading her fingers through his dark hair. She needed him closer.

Gabe slipped one of his roaming hands down between their two bodies, and slid two fingers into her dripping wet entry. She arched into his now familiar touch, taking his fingers to the knuckle.

"You're going to feel so good. Are you ready for me lil' darlin'?"

"Yes please."

Gabriel stood to get out of his boxer briefs, and she missed his weight almost instantly, but found her eyes drawn to his dick. It stood proud and straight, engorged and reddened with arousal a slow stream of pre-cum seeping out of him. He fumbled in the nightstand for a condom.

"You wanna do the honors sweetheart?" He asked holding up the shiny foil packet.

Michael shook her head not exactly trusting herself with something as important as that in this moment.

"As you wish." Gabriel shrugged, and she watched as he tore open the wrapper and applied it just as she remembered the directions from sex ed.

"Alright, darlin'."

Gabriel knelt between her legs and leaned forward, resting his weight on one forearm. He stroked her hair back from her face with his free hand, running his forefinger along her hairline and down her cheek to cup her jaw, his expression tender, measuring.

"What is it?"

"I don't want you to have any pain," he said the confidence he'd been projecting giving way to doubt as he looked away from her.

Michael couldn't help, but smile at his concern.

"I want to be with you." She said reaching up to stroke his hair back out of his face and slide her hand down along his cheek. His beard was soft to the touch the hair tickling her palm. "I'll be fine."

He nodded after a moment.

"Alright then Michael."

He tilted her chin up for a kiss and Michael gasped as he eased in slow and gentle, her body stretching around him, the head of his dick rubbing against her g-spot. Behind that came a sense of pressure, hurting, resistance, she tensed. He backed up and pushed in again hitting her g-spot on that second stroke and easing in a little further before backing off and pushing in again. All the while kissing her and stroking her hair and telling her how good she was. Working in and working her up until he penetrated her fully with one long thrust. A long low moan escaped her as those deep spots were stroked and stimulated competing with the discomfort of accommodating his length and thickness.

"You ok Michael?"

"Yes don't stop now," she said sensing that her discomfort would ease with movement.

"Alright darlin."

Gabriel pulled out and thrust in again.

"Tell me what feels good darlin' don't get quiet now."

Each stroke against her g-spot helped, each pass of her sensitive entry increased the pleasure she was feeling. It took a few experimental thrusts and then he found that deep inner spot that seemed as if it had been waiting just for him.

Michael moaned as her body clenched around him, legs coming up around his waist of their own accord. The hand that had been gripping her hip slid up her thigh to hook behind her knee.

"Oh god, Gabe!" She gasped those words out, a mixture of pleasure and surprise.

"Ah, that's my good girl, you're doin' so well lil' darlin."

The praise made her shiver with a different type of pleasure even as her body responded to him filling her over and over again, the bed creaking under their weight. A fine sheen of sweat broke out over her skin as she met him arch for thrust,  striving to take him deeper each time. Michael panted in his ear and tightened her arms around him her fingernails digging into his shoulder, as desperate need for him to grind that deep spot took hold, arousal lengthening her cunt so she could take him deeper still as she let down a wave of satisfaction.

_"Right there, Gabe don't stop."_

"Fuck, darlin' you're so good, so sweet."

He began working her with short, quick thrust,  grinding that deep inner spot that made her forget everything, but how good he felt and how much she needed.

She could feel it building like the sea before a tidal wave drawing back from the shore, the pleasure gathering itself low and deep in her belly until it burst washing over her, washing over them, sweeping her away. Michael writhed and twisted in the sheets, clinging to him as she cried out her satisfied body, desperate and clenching.

_"OhGoddamnMichael!"_

Gabriel started moving faster than his motions frenzied and desperate as her body flexed gripping him, milking him.

"Jesus sweetheart you're making me-" He gave one final, hard thrust with all his might and came, moaning and shuddering through his orgasm, face buried in her neck, one hand tangled in her hair even as Michael clung to him still savoring the waves of her own subsiding pleasure.

For a long moment, they both lay, panting and breathless, Gabriel resting his weight on his forearms, his forehead just touching hers. Michael opened her eyes and saw him still in the moment.

She ran a hand through his sweat-dampened hair, saw Gabe swallow as if he were gathering himself and then his eyes opened warm and soft as he smiled down at her.

"Hey," he said it kind and tender.

"Hey," Michael said back feeling mildly amused at being greeted when she'd gone absolutely nowhere.

He gave her a quick kiss and rolled away, pulling out and taking his delicious warmth with him.

"Gotta deal with the condom."

"Right," she murmured savoring everything that was still happening with her body, the lessor pulses of receding pleasure still passing through her, the languid, relaxed feeling settling into muscle and bone, and that bubble again. She looked over at Gabe and saw him drop the carefully knotted condom into the trash. Without thinking she reached out and stroked his arm.

He stretched out beside her with a smile and propped himself up with one arm before settling the other around her waist.

"You were amazing sweetheart."

A wave of shyness swept over her as Michael wondered suddenly what she'd looked like to him. Treacherous thoughts --always inescapable bloomed, a sudden growth of mold in her mind and heart. He'd seen more of her than she'd seen of herself.  Michael ducked her head tucking it against his shoulder as a nervous giggle --her only response to his compliment-- escaped her.

"Michael," he said reaching down to catch her chin and tilt her head up, forcing her to look at him. "What's going on?"

Unable to meet his eyes she looked away not at all sure how to answer.

"Michael, are you ok? Are-are you regretting- Do you regret it now?"

"No." She answered sharply she couldn't let him think that. She forced her to meet his eyes. "I don't regret any of it."

He relaxed and started to smile again.

"I'm making this incredibly awkward aren't I?"

"Sex is fairly awkward sweetheart."

"Awkward?"

"Yeah, I just had a latex sock on my dick for the past 20 minutes."

Michael chuckled at that, "I guess you did."

"Is that what's got you feeling shy all of a sudden?"

She nodded. "I had the sudden thought that I must have looked well, kinda, *crazy for lack of a better word or maybe--" She paused unwilling to share her thoughts about what her hair --now sweated out of its carefully styled coils into what had to be a wooly, cottony mess-- must look like or the heavily pigmented areas of her skin or her feet with their livid contrast of black and white.

"I thought you looked beautiful."

Michael frowned.

"Listen to me for a second Michael."

"Yes teacher," she said recovering some of her wit.

He tilted his head to one side the faintest hint of annoyance in his expression.

"Don't get smart," he said tone admonishing.

She batted her eyelashes at him expression one of mock innocence and contrition.

"You're going to get yourself in trouble one of these days."

She almost said I hope so, but held back.

"What were you going say, Gabe?"

It was his turn to hold back.

"Please I'll be good and listen I promise," Michael said the playful banter taking the edge off the shyness she'd been feeling earlier and allowing her to distance herself from treacherous thoughts.

Gabriel shook his head with a chuckle.

"Well, I was gonna say that contrary to the movies there is nothing graceful or dignified about sex. It strips away our pretense. The mask we wear day-to-day, the tiresome work we do to project our image of ourselves, sex strips that away and that's a good thing. It's why it feels so good, why you feel so relaxed after. And the safer and more comfortable you feel with your partner, and more still if you love them,  the more you're able to strip away. If you can strip away all or almost all pretense with another person and feel safe with them, then it's a beautiful thing even if it's only for a few minutes."

She stared at him.

"To use your words maybe you looked a little crazy, but to me it looked like you didn't care about anything in the world except what you were feeling,  you were more in the moment than you've ever been since I've known, you looked," he paused searching for the right words. "You looked free, and that was beautiful to me sweetheart."

For half a moment Michael thought maybe she loved him and then as if he seemed to sense just how much she was caught in the gravity of it he tickled her.

"Why?" Michael wailed in between bouts of laughter as she curled away from him.

"Because you're very pretty when you smile."

"You suck," she said feeling breathless, and just a bit drained.

"Also," he yawned. "I'd like to take a nap, and I can't answer any more serious questions."

"So tickling me is the answer?"

He nodded and pulled her close nuzzling his cheek against hers, the rasp of his beard making her skin tingle.

"Go to sleep,"he said yawning through the word as he tucked her in close settling an arm around her waist as she spooned against him.

"I do feel tired."

"Mhmm, all that beauty and freedom," he murmured.

Michael could feel the lassitude she'd managed to ignore earlier taking hold.

"Gabe, wait."

"What?"

"You were amazing too."

"Thank you, sweetheart," he gave her a little kiss on the cheek and Michael closed her eyes to sleep

* * *

A/N- a quick note about Michael using the word crazy to describe how she might have appeared to him when they were having sex. it is most assuredly casual ableism it is also how people talk and I gave a lot of thought to whether or not I would use it or something else. I went through several thesaurus before realizing it was the exact right word. Not so much because of the lack of control but culture ideas about Blackness. I won't go into too much more at this moment because I want to allow people their own interpretations and thoughts. However, if it bothers any of you or you wish to discuss it further please feel free to mention it in the comments.  
  
  


 

 


	14. A Comedy of Errors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a long afternoon for Michael and Gabriel when Buran triggers a comedy of errors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the longest chapter thus far. That makes sense for the pen-ultimate chapter of part one.

Coils, small and black, tiny and spring-like, with a cloudy softness. He twined the end of one around his finger stretching it gently before letting it go and watching it spring back to its place.

His phone buzzed then,  loud and obnoxious in the warm afternoon silence, the vibrator setting magnified by it sitting on the hardwood of his nightstand. Michael frowned in her sleep at the sound Gabriel rolled over to grab it from the nightstand, doggie daycare. He answered before it could buzz again.

"Hi, this is Monique from-"

"-Doggie daycare. This is Gabriel Lorca did Buran do anything?" He pitched his voice low and glanced over at Michael not wanting to disturb her.

The young woman laughed.

"No, Mr. Lorca, everyone here loves her; Buran is a great dog. She's a bit stubborn sometimes, but she's good girl. We just wanted to remind you that we close at 6pm on Saturdays."

"What time is it now?"

"It's 4:32 p.m."

"Shit," He swore under his breath.

"We have room at the hotel," Monique offered.

"Nah she doesn't like it. I'll be there, thanks for letting me know Monique."

"Of course Mr. Lorca."

He hung up the phone and sat it back on the nightstand.

His eyes went to Michael she slept still, her dark skin glowing against the white bedsheets, her hair a beautiful disarray, face relaxed. He watched the gentle rise and fall of her chest, her soft breast -dark nipples outlined against the white bedsheet.

She looked absolutely delicious and Gabriel considered calling the daycare back and telling them he'd changed his mind.

Instead, he leaned over and stroked her cheek.

"Michael," he said whispering her name. "Michael sweetheart."

Her eyes didn't open, but she leaned into his caress, and he smiled.

"Michael?"

"What?' She asked without really waking, her sweet lips pursed.

"I have to go get Buran, but I'll be back. Make yourself at home."

"Mhmm, okay Gabe," she smiled on the last word and unable to resist he leaned down to give her a quick kiss, but then got a bit of a surprise when he felt her grip on his wrist.

"I won't be long sweetheart."

"Mhmm, ok." She relinquished his hand and rolled over onto her side. He should probably shower, but if he wanted to beat the last minute rush, he'd need to get moving. So instead he sprayed some cologne, ran his fingers through his hair, brushed his beard, threw on his clothes and hoped he didn't smell too strongly of sex or pussy. Though the idea did provide him with a certain amount of amusement. Gabriel started out the door but stopped remembering his watch and ring lying on the nightstand on Michael's side of the bed.

He went to the table to pick them up only to be arrested by the photo of himself and Anthony at the Grand Canyon. His first worried thought was that Michael had seen it. He picked picture up intending to hide it away, but guilt flooded him slowing his actions. How could he hide his little boy?

They'd come from the Grand Canyon with so many buds, flower petals, leaves, stems and twigs they'd been convinced Anthony was gonna grow up and become a botanist. He'd have spent every dime he had making that happen for his son if that's what he would have wanted.

Gabriel shook his head, pushing memories -happy and unhappy alike- aside. He wasn't, he couldn't share this with Michael, not yet.

Taking care, he eased the nightstand drawer open and sat the photo carefully amid the collection of lotion, lip balm, kleenex, condoms, pen, and paper. Gabriel pressed an impulsive kiss to his fingertips and then tapped those fingers to the glass, a kiss for his son intending to shut the drawer. Still, he stared down at the photo reluctant to close the drawer, to put a covering over that little face. But then Michael stirred and he felt that familiar dread. Gabriel eased the nightstand drawer shut and left without looking back.

Buran, of course, was excited to see him, the fluffy black and white malamute barking with excitement and wagging her tail as she strained on her leash in her haste and desire to greet him.

Only to stop short and sniff him curiously giving first his face and then his crotch careful attention.

"That's enough girl."

She looked at him curiously one ear flopping to the side.

"Yes girl," he said leaning down to fasten his own leash to her collar. "I got laid come on."

She yipped back at him before pulling on the leash signaling her readiness to depart. With Buran in the car, he completed a couple quick errands: dropping off mail and picking up dry cleaning before heading back.

He stopped at Tim's grocery and grabbed a few things. A bottle of white wine to go with the chicken in the Home Chef meal he had upstairs. Kumatos for the salad greens, a baguette they could toast with olive oil. He could make Michael an omelet for breakfast, he made a mean omelet. Gabe grabbed a few more things green onions, swiss gruyere cheese, prosciutto,  shopping finished he headed upstairs.

Buran started growling the moment they were outside the apartment door, Michael must be up.

"Heel girl, you know Michael."

The dog whined and settled as he unlocked the door to the sound of when Doves Cry coming not from his iPod, but his record player as the smell of chicken and garlic filled the hall. She must have started the Home Chef meal.

"Michael?"

"I'm in the kitchen."

Buran whined, anxious and excited to see a friend, and her tail began to wag. Gabriel took his shoes off and unhooked Buran's leash. He started toward the kitchen, Buran trotting alongside.

"Cooking?" he asked, in spite of smelling chicken and garlic in the air.

"Yup."

Michael greeted him in the kitchen doorway, and he smiled at the sight of her wearing nothing, but one of his shirts and an apron, her dark hair pulled into an afro puff on top of her head.

"I decided to make the chicken, hope you don't mind," she gave him that earnest, hopeful look where she half-smiled and watched him intently waiting for his reaction.

"Nope, I told you to make yourself at home."

Buran interposed herself between the two of them then, the big dog butting Michael's hip for pets before sitting on her feet and gazing up her eager for attention.

"I'm cooking right now girl, I can't really pet you."

"Well you know she lives in a world without germs."

The dog only whined and gazed at Michael with big eyes. Sighing Michael gave in and reached down to give the dog a scratch behind the ears, pulling her hand back in surprise when Buran gave it a friendly lick.

"Buran come here," Gabriel ordered that, and she whined for a response, but did as told moving to his side. "It's my turn to say hello."

He sat the grocery bag down on the floor.

"It all smells good and you-" He reached out with one hand to cup her round little bottom and pull her up close, taking a moment to let his eyes travel over her mouth, her clavicles, the pulse at her throat, the cleavage exposed by his shirt.

"What about me?" She asked a coy little smile playing around her lips.

"You look good enough to eat."

She laughed then.

"That's so cheesy."

"Maybe."  Gabriel cupped her cheek with the other hand, stroking his thumb across her cheekbone. He found her lips with his, warm and plump, pillow-soft just as the kitchen timer pinged.

"I need to stir the pasta!" She exclaimed and wriggled away darting around the kitchen island.

Sighing Gabriel took in the rest of the kitchen. Michael had told him she didn't cook much and the disarray in this kitchen made that clear wasted spices, discarded wrappers, discards of chopped vegetables and various kitchen tools littered every surface. He shook his head and went to the refrigerator putting away the food he'd purchased, and Buran went to her food dishes whining.

"I'm sorry girl." He got Buran fed and turned to see Michael standing on tiptoe reaching to get the colander from the top shelf of one of his cabinets over the sink. His eyes went to the hem of his shirt, the garment was riding up giving him a tantalizing glimpse of the globes of her bare ass. Gabriel let his eyes slide down along the silky brown thighs that had been wrapped around his waist a few hours earlier, her shapely legs, the white bottoms of her feet and back up again.

"Here, let me help."

He walked up behind her, turning the stove off as passed it and tipped the colander down letting it drop into her outstretched hands.

"Thank you."

"Of course."

He settled his hands on her slender shoulders. The scent of his soap wafted up from her skin, and he stroked the bare shoulder exposed by the sag of his shirt.

"I'm tempted to give you this shirt sweetheart. It looks so damned good on you."

She chuckled before turning, colander held between them, amusement in her dark eyes as a pleased smile played about her lips.

"The pasta."

"Right, doesn't take long for it to overcook."

She moved past him setting the colander in the sink and quickly washing her hands before grabbing a pair of oven mitts to get pasta from the stove. While Michael dealt with the pasta, Gabriel busied himself cleaning up the kitchen.

"You really don't cook much do you?"

"You can tell?"

"Yeah." He said tone dry as he started to gather the Home Chef wrappers and dump them in the trash. From there he moved onto cleaning the wasted spices and kitchen utensils while Michael went back the chopping the last of the veggies meant to go with the pasta. They chatted while they worked Michael was eager to print her pictures and see how they'd come out. She also had ideas for his first YouTube video.

"You don't have to post it, but you should. I rarely have guests, my viewers will really like it."

"Your YouTube guest?"

"Yes." She gave him a warm smile. "You can talk about engineering. Microbiology and Engineering aren't related fields, but engineering and technical sciences certainly are."

He nodded.

"Anything in particular interest you these days?"

"A lotta things actually I do keep current on tech."

"Excellent,  think about which one you want and we can do an outline, see about props or animation."

"Are you giving me homework for our next date?"

Michael laughed. "I wouldn't say it's homework,but you did say you wanted to make a YouTube video and these are the things that go into making a good YouTube video."

Gabriel shook his "Speaking of our next date. I know your busy Saturday afternoon, but uh' Saturday night?"

"I did promise Sylvia a girl's night out So 'uh Sunday? It would have to be early though because I have work on Monday."

"Reg's baseball team has games downstate next weekend. I promised his mom I'd chaperone on Sunday so she could work. I don't how long they're gonna be. And you have that Black Girls STEM dinner on Friday don't you?"

"I sure do," Michael looked him nodding, expression annoyed as he felt. "So we're both busy all next weekend."

"Yup."

Gabriel stopped and watched Michael as he considered that.  

"You're chopping technique is terrible, actually it's non-existent."

She didn't bother with the cutting board just held everything in her hands and cut with a paring knife, best way to slice your hand open. Especially if you had good knives like he did.

"Why don't you use the cutting board, Michael?" 

"It's faster this way."

"Well be careful, you might cut yourself."

"Thanks, dad," she stuck out her tongue, and he chuckled.

"You're going to get yourself in trouble one of these days," he said shaking a finger at her.

"I hope s-" Michael yelped suddenly going up on her toes knife slipping. "Damn it, Buran. Shit!" She dashed around the island making for the sink a long thin well of red opening on her palm.

"What happened?"

"Your _dog_ sniffed me."  

Gabriel frowned not at all sure why that was cause for all this ruckus and looked over at Buran who sat looking at them innocently.

Michael held her hand over the sink, flipping on the water. She held her hand under the faucet sending a  red-tinted swirl down the drain.

Gabriel frowned, "let's get this cleaned up in the bathroom."

"Okay," she nodded. He turned off the water and wrapped a kitchen towel, part way around her hand. He didn't cover the wound --it would stick-- but something needed to catch the blood.

"Wait it's time for the chicken to come out of the oven."

"I'll get it."

Gabriel opened the oven door, and his stomach rumbled as the kitchen flooded with the mouthwatering scent of food. He pulled a pan of sizzling, perfectly browned chicken breast swimming in their own swirling juices out of the oven and set it on the counter

"Damn that looks good. Let's get this taken care of and eat."

* * *

 

With the blood washed away he could see the cut was a long clean line, a neat slice into the flesh.

"-This is probably gonna need stitches."

"What?"Michael looked disgusted and pulled her hand away, blood welled on her palm, gleaming and red.

"I'm no doctor sweetheart, but I've seen my fair share of lacerations, and that's pretty deep."

"We're not going to sit in the E.R. for three hours on a Saturday night for a kitchen wound."

"Michael-"

"-Just clean it please so we can go and eat."

Gabriel shook his head, but dutifully swabbed the wound with rubbing alcohol while Michael sat wincing and hissing.

"This is Buran's fault," she said in a petulant tone he'd never heard before.

"Boo?"

"Yeah, she practically shoved her nose right in my crotch. It startled me, and that's when I dropped the knife," she explained with an annoyed pout and Gabriel ducked his head biting his bottom lip to keep from laughing.

"Well, sweetheart dogs do that naturally; especially when they've smelt you all over their master."

"I'm a microbiologist Gabe. I know what she was doing, it was just unsettling. I don't have on any underwear."

Gabriel couldn't help, but laugh as he pressed the cotton pad over the wound and began winding gauze around it to hold the pad in place.

"It's not funny."

"You didn't see your face,"  He said securing it with the bandage with medical tape.

Michael sniffed and snatched her hand away.

"My hand hurts, I was molested by a dog, and I wore myself out cooking for you," she poked him in the shoulder for emphasis."And now I'm being teased."

"Aww well I'm very sorry sweetheart," he said solicitously. " You've had a trying afternoon. I shouldn't tease you."

"No you shouldn't," she pouted.

"Can I see your hand please?"

She extended her hand, expression wary. Gabe still taking it all very seriously took her hand in his.

"My momma always told me a little kiss made any hurt better."

Holding her hand in his Gabriel met those endless dark eyes of hers and kissed her knuckles before turning her hand over. He traced light fingers along the edge of her palm, across the little ridge of flesh just above the bandage and up and down the length of her fingers, slow and light before kissing each finger in its turn.

Michael bit her bottom lip, and he smiled before giving her knee a gentle squeeze.

"We should eat."

Michael's only response was to swallow and nod. Smugly satisfied at his affect on her Gabriel helped her up and they headed for the kitchen ready to eat. There was a thud and scramble of claws on tile along with the unmistakable sound of metal clattering to the floor.

Michael up at him, "Did you put the chicken on the counter?"

"Yup," he said both of them already knowing exactly who had already eaten their chicken dinner.

The moment they stepped into the kitchen  Buran affected a guilty posture belly to the ground, paws on top of her head as if to hide her face. Gabriel picked up the pan that had held chicken breast to see it was completely empty a mess of meat juices and oil on the floor.

"I think I overcooked the pasta anyway." Michael chewing a strand of angel hair.

He looked at the mess in his kitchen: the wasted veggies Buran had tipped over in her sudden haste to avoid getting caught, the pile of dishes in the kitchen sink, the dirty countertops and stove, the mess on the floor, etc…

"Hold up your hand," he said. There was already a growing stain of red on the bandage.

"That's it. Go get dressed, you're going to the hospital, no argument."

She started to argue, but after years of unruly trainees, testy seamen, and being captain of his own vessel Gabriel Lorca knew how to command with a look.

Michael snapped her mouth shut, crossed her arms and walked back toward the bedroom. Now he turned his attention to Buran who looked at him hopefully.

"You, bad dog. Kennel now."

The dog whined but did as told head down, tail between her legs. Buran used her kennel regularly, typically with the door open so she could come and go freely and a few toys to entertain herself.

"Don't look at me like that, you know better."

He shut the kennel door with a frown. It wouldn't be much of a punishment since she'd just spent the day at camp and eaten a platter of chicken, but there wasn't much else to do. He tended to be one of those pet owners who took it upon himself to eliminate trouble before it started. Including putting platters of chicken in the microwave where they would be safe from a dog's nature.

By the time he'd gotten Buran settled Michael came back into the kitchen dressed dark hair picked out into a full fluffy fro.

"It is pretty bad," Michael said holding up her hand. The bandage was completely red now.

"Come on sweetheart." He grabbed a kitchen towel to wrap her hand in. "Let's go and keep pressure on that."

The drive to the hospital was a short one. Michael sat quiet, arms crossed, forehead pressed against the glass, towel wrapped hand pressed tight between her knees, expression morose.

"It's Saturday, it's going to be crowded," she said.

"Nah it's still early the college kids haven't started partying yet."

He found parking as near the emergency as he could get and Michael didn't speak a word until he shut the car off.

Worried now he took her uninjured her hand and gave it a squeeze.

"Hey. What's going on?"

She looked at him for the first time since they left his apartment.

"Just bad memories," she said. "Come on."

He got out of the car and went around to her side, helping her out as always. Michael surprised him by putting her arms around him and leaning her head against his chest.

Gabriel kissed her forehead and rubbed her back in what he hoped were soothing circles. She relaxed in his arms, breathing even and steady and he felt the gentle press of her chest against his with every breath in.  His eyes fell on a family geese, taking advantage of the strip of green split the parking lot in half, gray gosling imitating their parents as they pecked at the grass the branches of an apple tree covered in white blossoms sheltering them.

"Tell me what's going on."

She looked up expression measuring.

"It's just- the last time I was in the hospital the visit didn't go well."

"Hospital visits tend to be like that."

A wry smile turned up the corners of her lips.

"I know."

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to as long as you get your hand taken care of."

"You're not going to let that go are you."

"Nope."

She sighed then.

"Come on." Michael shifted away, keeping one arm around his waist and he settled an arm around her shoulders. They crossed the parking lot in silence their playful banter, and Michael's thoughtful conversation stemmed.

The E.R. was crowded with people sitting in rows of cheap beige chairs while flat screens on the walls played CNN, a Cubs games and what looked to be reruns of Golden Girls. A triage nurse -her braids in a ponytail, gave them a form as she cast a judgemental glance at the arm he had around Michael's shoulder.

"Any idea how long the wait is?" Michael asked.

"Depends, we had five come in after a car accident. That's five emergency surgeries, plus the usual. What is it?" The nurse's eyes landed on Michael's hand, and her expression softened a bit. "You need stitches and a tetanus shot?"

They nodded.

"Treatment goes in order of urgency it's probably going to be a few hours."

He felt Michael stiffen beside him.

"Hang on to that." He handed the clipboard back to the nurse and fished his phone out of his pocket before steering Michael back outside.

"Did I tell you I have a doctor friend?"

She brightened instantly."You're running buddy?"

He nodded and pushed the button to call Hugh a moment later the other man answered.

"Hey, Gabe what's up?"

"You busy?"

"Ben and Jen are on their way over."

He and Benjamin Sisko had both been in recruit training together. As officer trainees,  they were targets for greater scrutiny and harsh discipline from the TIs, Ben more so because of his race. They'd bonded while scrubbing floors together.

"So y'all are partying without me?"

"You always grumble about being the 5th wheel and besides aren't you unicorn tending this weekend?"

Gabriel chuckled. "Speaking of you got your medical bag handy?"

"Yes, why?" Hugh asked tone shifting serious and focused.

"Michael sliced her hand open needs a few stitches from the look of it.  E.R. has got at least a 3-hour wait."

"We were about to smoke; waiting for the weed guy."

Gabe considered for a moment it had been a while since he smoked.

"Get your herb, come over here, stitch up Michael's hand and we'll smoke."

"Alright two conditions we smoke on the deck, you fire up the grill.

Like many high rise buildings, his apartment had a rooftop deck, this one offered an unimpeded view of the lake. Hugh and Paul had been trying to get him to do something up there since he moved in. The couple had a beautiful two-story home, but no lakefront view.

"Yeah fine as long as it's not booked."

"Alright good I'll tell Ben and Jen to meet us at your place, and we'll see you in about an hour. Did you just tell me her name was Michael- Michael Burnham?"

"Yeah, why?"

Hugh laughed.

"Don't worry about it. Does she smoke?"

Gabriel could not quite imagine his over-achieving little nerd with a joint.

"Do you smoke Michael?"

"Smoke?"

He laughed at the face she made.

"Do you have a problem being around people smoking?"

"Cigarettes?"

He laughed again.

"What?"

"Herb."

"Oh." Michael seemed to consider. "I guess not."

"Well, it's the cost of skipping the E.R."

"I'm fine with that."

"She's good and get some extra."

"Sure. Enough for two?"

He looked over at Michael who still seemed a bit tense.

"Yeah, sure, what the hell."

Hugh chuckled.

"Alright man, we'll see you in an hour."

"Yup."

He hung up the phone, and they went back to the car. Gabriel changed Michael's bandage. While he cleaned and rewrapped the cut, they discussed their plans for the evening, deciding to first stop by Michael's apartment and let her grab a few things so she could sleep over before heading back to his place to meet his friends.

"So this is turning into a party now?" Michael asked amusement in her voice.

"I wouldn't call it that."

"Your doctor friend, for which I am very grateful, and his husband and Ben and Jen, whoever they are, are coming over. Your doctor friend's husband is bringing pot, and we're gonna barbecue on the deck. That sounds like a party."

"Yeah, I guess it does."  

Michael surprised him by placing her good hand on his knee.

"Maybe," he could hear the pout in her voice. "I had other plans for the evening."

He glanced at her, and for a thirty-year-old woman who'd only sex for the first time not four hours ago, she was doing a damned good sex kitten, right down to batting the eyelashes and an adorable pout.

He grinned and met her eyes.

"What exactly were you thinking darlin'?"

She swallowed and ducked her head -recognizing unfamiliar waters, but then surprised him by pressing on.

"Ohhhh, lots of things," Michael said picking imaginary lint from her skirt, she paused for a breath before looking back at him with a pout. "I mean I've never gone down, and I've never been on top."

_He sees her instantly, naked, but for a sheen of damp sweat, eyes closed lips parted as his mattress rocks underneath them, bed springs squealing, her breast, neither large nor small, but a perfect handful, bouncing rhythmically with each thrust-_

"But you have a house full of guest," she turned away stretching with a careless shrug.

Gabriel licked his lips and started the car.

"Alright tease let's get going." Michael only gasped and blinked at him innocently as he started the car.

* * *

 

Michael unlocked the door of her apartment and froze as the hallway filled with a long, loud moan of feminine pleasure and the rhythmic squeak of a bed getting a good work-out. She looked at him with a grimace and Gabriel chuckled under his breath.

"You wanna tell the whole building?"

She shook her head, and they went inside. Michael shut the door with care and locked it.

"Oh god! Fuck! Sylvia!" A male voice declared, the aforementioned Sylvia moaned louder, gasping out the last of her pleasure.

"I'm so sorry," Michael whispered tone exasperated. "I'll be quick as I can."

Gabriel shrugged, "I'm gonna use your bathroom."

She nodded and crept down the hall, taking care to be quiet, for one reason or another preferring not to let her roommate know they were there. Gabriel followed behind not wanting to get turned around with all the extra doors and rooms.

Things got quiet as he slipped into the bathroom, God, fuck, Sylvia seemed to be the end of it.

Michael's bathroom was old fashioned with a giant claw foot tub, pedestal sink, and tiny octagon tiles. A silvery shower curtain with a pattern of blue vines hung in the tub. It was a light pleasant space, the rose scent that Michael favored mingling with the fresh spring air that coming in through the open window.

He'd just started to relieve himself when the bathroom door opened.

He looked up to see a thick redhead in a lavender satin robe, red curls cascading down her shoulders, face still flushed from her earlier activity standing in the doorway.

Their eyes met, and before he could explain to the redhead, who he assumed to be Sylvia, that he was not some random man who'd broken into her apartment to use her bathroom and possibly murder her in her sleep, she pulled the bathroom door shut with a scream. There was running and shouting, and Gabriel finished in a hurry and zipping his jeans shut just before both of the doors to the bathroom opened.

A young man with the redhead right behind him came in from the hall door and Michael through the door that adjoined her bedroom.

"He's with me! Sylvia!"

"Oh hey, Michael," the redhead peaked around her beaux with bright smile and waved. "Is this Gabe?"

"Yeah."

The naked guy relaxed, looking completely unbothered by the entire situation. Which he shouldn't. Gabe didn't go around checking out other men's junk, but he wasn't really that impressive.

"He is handsome," Sylvia observed.

"So when I'm not here you just use my bathroom?"

"Well ya' know."

"I know I'd like to finish using the bathroom by myself," Gabriel said wondering why they were all still standing there.

"Sorry," both women said at once. Sylvia's naked friend only laughed.

"Please ignore him," Sylvia tugged on her companion's arm. "Sorry nice meeting you." The younger woman shut the door.

"I'm going to finish getting my bag together, sorry about that."

"Ok."

Michael left, and he took a moment to wash his hands, considering his first meeting with her best friend. The young woman had said he was handsome at least. Hands washed he took a moment to study his reflection, running his fingers through his hair and smoothing his beard. Before rapping on Michael's door.

"Come in Gabe."

He found Michael in her bedroom standing over a bag that looked too large for just one night.  He surveyed her bedroom seeing it again with different eyes taking in the silver, blue and muted green with splashes of pink and it's delicate, ethereal and feminine air. The idea of making love to Michael, in this proper feminine space, in her own bed --so that she couldn't help, but think of him when she was here alone--  provided a potent form of arousal.

"How's your hand?" He asked closing the distance between them in two short steps and putting his arms around her waist.

"The bleeding seems to have slowed. It hurts, but I've had worse."

"Good,"he kissed the back of her neck and peered down into her bag. "How are you feelin' with everything else?"

She zipped the overnight bag shut and turned in his arms, facing him with a smile.

"Good happy, you don't have to worry about me. I'll let you know if I'm not okay with anything."

"Alright."

"I think I have everything. I'm just going to talk to Sylvia and check on Coco and Snowball and then we can go."

"Alright, I got this," Gabe said picking up her bag, which was very light in spite of its size. He took the overnight bag to the foyer and set it by the door before making himself comfortable in the living room.

"Hey man," Sylvia's boyfriend, now dressed, was sitting on the couch sipping a beer a pair of thick horn-rimmed glasses perched on his nose.

"Hey."

"I'm Pete."

He shook the hand the younger man extended.

"I'm Gabriel."

"There's beer in the fridge."

"Thanks." Gabriel sat in the room's only chair.

"Sorry about earlier."

"No problem, you were standing up for your girl."

"Oh, Sylvia's not my girlfriend we're just friends." Pete clicked on the television turning it to the Cubs game.

"How long have you known Michael?"

"A month," Gabriel replied not wanting to make small talk.

"That's your ride out there, the Mercedes?"

"Yeah."

"Sylvia says you're retired military."

"Yeah."

"Man that's the life sweet ride, great career, beautiful young girlfriend."

Gabriel paused before responding. Marrying a black woman and living in the south he'd gotten over male locker room talk fast. He didn't much care for Pete's implication that Michael was some kinda mid-life crisis.

"Yeah well, Michael is a very special woman."

"Right of course. Just being able to pull a fine young thing at your age, respect."

"Right," Gabriel said getting to his feet, suddenly ready to go. He made his way down the hall, stopping in front of the door he assumed must be Sylvia's room. He was about to knock, but then he heard his name.

_"-some of Gabe's friends."_

_"That's great. You're sleeping over there does that mean your problem is solved?"_

_"You call having sex on my own terms a problem?" Michael's tone was defensive, and he had a feeling they'd had this conversation before._

_"No of course not," the redhead's tone was conciliatory. "But you said so yourself it was making dating harder for you, but that's beside the point. He is handsome, I see the appeal, but he's like grandpa age. What can you even do with a relationship like that?"_

_"Well, Sylvia you always said I was an old soul."_

_Whatever was said next was too soft to hear._

_"-like him, but he's nearly twice your age, you're at different points in life, you can't have a real future with a man that old-"_

_"-Stop we're done, we're not discussing this anymore."_

_"-Michael-"_

Gabriel took a step backward and then another before hurrying back down the hall. He'd only just settled on the couch when he heard the click of a door being opened. The two young women came down the hall and paused a moment in the living room archway.

Michael's eyes landed on him, and she smiled tight and forced before crossing the room to stand in front of him.

"You ready to go, babe?" She ran a hand through his hair.

"Sure sweetheart," Gabriel smiled as he stood. "You got everything?"

She nodded, she surprised him with a quick kiss and slipped her hand into his. Michael was affectionate, but she did not initiate in public.

She didn't reject his affection in public, but she didn't initiate either.

"Nice to meet you Sylvia, Pete."

"Nice to meet you too you guys have a good night," Sylvia giggled and waved with a flutter of her fingers, Pete merely nodded.

Gabriel grabbed Michael's bag, and they left. He wanted to ask about the conversation with Sylvia, her sudden demonstrative behavior, Gabe kept those questions to himself. Whatever arguments Sylvia had presented to Michael she chose him for the moment.

* * *

 

"That was easily the best of the three," Michael gestured for emphasis, eyes wide with excitement, Ben and Jen smiled. "A question about your fourth book, the woman in red who appears to the protagonist.  She was a fascinating element in the story, a subconscious projection created a woman trapped in an unhappy marriage to temporarily escape a demanding husband. How did you come up with that idea?"

"That was actually Jen's idea," Benjamin Sisko looked at his wife with a fond smile and patted her knee. "Jennifer is always my first editor. I don't exaggerate when I say I couldn't do it without her."

Jennifer Sisko laughed in return.

"My husband is too modest. I just have an idea here and there. He does all the hard work."

The trio continued talking animatedly, Michael it seemed was a big fan of Ben's novels.

There was a hiss from the grill, and he lifted the lid of the grill to check the for flames that might shoot up and crisp the polish sausages and drumsticks.

"It's about time we got up here," Hugh said walking up alongside him, eyes on the trio, beer in hand.

"Thanks," he accepted the beer with a smile.

Here, referred to the rooftop deck his building offered complete with patio furniture, a grill, decorative shrubs and strung with a canopy of Christmas lights. The deck offered an unimpeded view of the lake and the park.  The water black, reflecting the night sky as it flowed in and out from the shore, the night breeze stirring wind chimes.

"I like Michael," Hugh commented.

Gabriel smiled wryly. Hugh had come straight up to take care of Michael's hand when the couple arrived while Paul had stopped in Timothy's to pick-up a few things. When Paul had finally come upstairs he and Michael had greeted one another with a frosty:

_"Ms. Burnham."_

_"Dr. Stamets."_

Apparently they worked out of the same lab, but in different departments.Still whatever bad blood they had at work it didn't seem to be putting a damper on the evening, Paul was happily packing a bowl for the six of them to share.

"Paul doesn't actually dislike Michael."

"He doesn't?"

"No, it's just his department used to get the extra funding before Michael got hired."

"So they're rivals?"

"Yeah."

Buran whined he looked down at her lying on the floor a few feet away.

"No sausages for you pest."

She was thankfully too worn to door more than watch through half closed eyes and occasionally whine for food in a half-hearted attempt at begging.

The trio laughed, and Paul held up the packed bowl.

"Come on everyone."

Gabe turned the last of the sausages and joined everyone on the patio furniture, settling on one of the couches. Michael took the spot beside him, smoothing her skirt as she sat down.

"You gonna smoke sweetheart?"

"I don't know yet."

Paul lit the bowl filling the air with the pungent aroma of herb, sharp and musky.

"You know all these folks from the navy?"

"Hugh and Ben."

Michael studied him a moment, and she got that look on her face, the one he was starting to recognize that meant she was going to say or do something impertinent.

"Don't you have any white friends?"

She asked that question just as he was taking his hit from the pipe and Gabe nearly choked to death trying not to laugh.

"You know Gabe self-hate can be serious there is help for that," Ben said voice rich and sonorous expression completely serious

"No offense to my white friends, love of my life," Hugh looked over at Paul. "But I wouldn't want to be white either, y'all just aren't cool." Hugh snickered as he said it and Michael had to hold back laughter.

"Not cool!" Paul exclaimed. "Excuse me, Mr.-I-wanna-go-see-Phantom-of-the-Opera-on-my birthday, I think that puts you out of the cool kids club."

"Opera is cool!" Michael exclaimed.

"Michael, sweetheart, you're the most adorable nerd I know, but opera isn't cool." He extended the pipe to her and leaned into to whisper in her ear. "You studied for our date."

She laughed at herself then.

"You gonna smoke sweetheart?"

She considered a moment, lips pursed, head tilted back ever so slightly.

"All the cool kids are doing it."  

Michael laughed at that.

"Excuse me, I don't know what you two are doing over there," Jennifer said leaning toward them, "but puff-puff-pass."

Gabriel laughed the THC was starting to hit him now.

"Jen's right sweetheart puff-puff-pass or just pass."

"What the hell." Michael took both the pipe from him with a brush of her fingertips.

"Want me to light it for you?"

"Nope, I got it, same principle as lighting a cigarette."

Gabriel looked at her with widened eyes.

"I did rebel a little when I was a teen."

He laughed, and leaned back on one elbow, imagining teenaged Michael stealing cigarettes and smoking on her parents back porch.

Michael took her first hit like a pro', before passing the bowl to Ben. She did cough a bit but managed to hold it long enough before exhaling.

"It's a day of firsts for you huh', darlin?" He whispered those words for her ears alone one hand in the small of her back.

She turned shy almost instantly ducking her head, but then looked at him over her shoulder with a smile as she met his eyes. He stroked her shoulder intensely aware of its cool silkiness, the little hairs that his touch raised. Her smile broadened teeth white even under the soft Christmas lights. He leaned forward to give her a quick kiss.

"You're lips are so warm."  He kissed her again giving her lower lip a quick nip before getting to his feet.

"I have to check, the food."

He got up to check on the food as the bowl made a second round.

They talked, things that seemed profound in the moment, but when filtered through a sober mind the clear light of day would reveal their inanity. The food came off the grill and they ate polish sausages hot juicy, drumsticks slathered in barbecue sauce, potato salad from the deli downstairs, potato chips, and ice cream after. They ate, and no one worried about their cholesterol or waistlines. Michael took her hair out of the puff that she'd tied it up into earlier that day and the Christmas lights shining through it in conjunction with the way being high blurred his vision ever so slightly created a golden-white halo around her.

"You look like an angel."

"What kind? You mean like a Hallmark card kind or the kind so terrifying they have to tell the mere mortal beholding them "do not fear-" as the mortal runs away in terror."

"The second one smart ass."

"Oh, a man who knows how to pay a compliment,"

His playlist shuffled, and Rise started to play. Michael jumped to her feet, stretching her slender body, so he took it all in at once, the halo glowing around her youthful exuberance pouring out of her even now.

"Dance with me, Gabe."

"Of course sweetheart."

Michael was relaxed and easy in his arms her hands moving up his arms and over his chest before she draped them around his neck.

"You smell good, you always smell good."

She stood on tiptoe to kiss and nuzzle against his neck, her lips warm and pillow soft against his skin. They didn't dance so much as sway in place something that normally would have felt much too intimate with the others around, but right now in the cloudy haze of his high Gabe couldn't bring himself to care.

Ben and Jen decided to join them, and then Paul and Hugh and Gabriel found himself marveling at the impromptu party happening on his deck. Michael in his arms, resting her head against his chest, his friends here having a good time, the night air warm with the smokey scent of grill, and the soft white twinkle of Christmas lights overhead all because Michael cut her hand.

* * *

Their evening started to wind down after that everyone suddenly waiting to get home. They packed up the remaining food and charcoal, collected the trash and headed back into his apartment. Michael remained close to him the entire time, an arm around his waist her head on his shoulder.

She was in his arms the moment he shut the door behind the last of their guest. He kissed her sweet lips first a peck that quickly turned into more, and he let his hands roam her pliant body, the soft handful that was her breast, her slender waist, and rounded bottom. Gabriel pushed her back against the wall undoing the top button on her dress and sliding one hand in to caress her breast through the fabric of her bra.

She moaned and ground against him and then Buran started barking.

"What?"

He looked down and saw the dog sitting, staring at them, leash in her mouth. She whined at him imploringly, needs clear.

"Well shit."

"What?" Michael asked pursing her lips in annoyance.

"I gotta take Buran out."

"Now?"

"Yeah," Gabriel said. "

Michael sighed.

"Buran you are not on my side today. What do I need to bribe you with?"

The dog only whined wagging her tail.

Gabriel couldn't help but chuckle.

"Come on Boo," he said fastening the leash to her collar.

He hurried the dog down as much as he could. Of course, she didn't relieve herself right away insisting on walking a bit in the park across the cul-de-sac sniffing trees and hydrants and insisting on a bit of play before finally relieving herself and letting Gabriel take her back upstairs.

He found the apartment dark, the only light a soft glow coming from the bedroom lamps. He let Boo off her leash, and she trotted alongside him down the hall.  He found Michael curled on her side asleep on hand tucked under head, bandaged hand resting on her stomach.

He shot Buran a dirty look and shook or attempted to shake her awake, but she was sound asleep. With an annoyed sigh, he glanced at the clock, 12:22 a.m., long day.

No longer interested in waking her Gabriel sat down on the side of the bed. One by one he slipped her earrings off, and then her bracelet. He set the silver teardrop hoops side-by-side on the nightstand, taking care to stick the earring backs onto the post. Satisfied that she wouldn't scratch either of them in her sleep, or ruin her jewelry he got ready for bed, stripping down to his boxers and brushing his teeth.

"Michael sweetheart wake up for a second," he said giving her a gentle shake.

"What?" She murmured eyes still closed.

"Don't you want to get under the covers?"The covers were just a sheet and a light spread but the bedroom was cool, the night breeze clean and fresh off the lake.

"Okay," she said and woke up just enough to get under the covers and go back to sleep. With an amused chuckle, he switched off the lamp on her side and then got into bed. She curled against him almost instantly preferring his shoulder as pillow.

Smiling at that he put an arm around her slender shoulders and closed his hand around the hand she'd rested on his chest, stroking his thumb along the edge of it marveling at its smallness and the strength contained there and felt another surge of protectiveness. He switched off the lamp on his side plunging the room into darkness.

_'What kind of future can you have with this man?'_ The thought came almost immediately.

He had deliberately avoided thinking much about this relationship because he knew the answer to that question, none. Michael herself had already considered it, asking him if he wanted children at some future date. The right thing to do would be to shepherd Michael through her erotic awakening and send her to on her way to a bright future with one of those young men with whom she could build that future, that family.

His stomach twisted sick at the thought, and she shifted in his arms. He'd pressed her close to him at the thought of letting her go. Gabriel released his hold on her and Michael rolled away to lie on her back, spreading out to take up more space, one leg tangled with his.

He looked over at Michael, barely visible in the dark. He could feel the heat she radiated, the slight dip of dip of the bed under her weight, hear the gentle sigh of her breathing in and out clear and even in the nighttime quiet. Gabriel traced his index finger up along her arm, her skin smooth and soft, warm. His fingers found a long thin scar on her forearm, a narrow ridge that he hadn't noticed before, he stroked it with his thumb.

Gabriel didn't know how long he lay there in the dark thinking about Michael and whether or not he should let her go or keep her close, but at some point, she shifted closer to him again without stirring from her sleep. He tucked her close then, settling an arm lightly across her waist and sliding one of his legs between hers. She sighed contentedly in her sleep, and Gabriel knew right then that he had no intention of letting her go.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No notes, I'm too sleepy for notes and worked on this too long.


	15. A Beautiful Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Longest chapter of the fic, last chapter of part 1.

Michael shifted closer to Gabriel and stretched an arm across his broad chest. Without waking from his sleep, he pressed her close. Smiling, she pillowed her head on his chest. She could let sleep carry her back into the land of dreams, snuggling in a pool of contented warmth mind drifting drowsily between sleep and wakefulness.

She could have if it weren't for the straps of her bra digging into her shoulders and the subtle pressure of Gabe's arm on her bladder. _Why had she fallen asleep in her bra anyway?_  She wanted to ignore it; her eyes had that dry, irritated feeling of waking too early. Sunday was typically the only day Michael slept-in, usually until 8 a.m. If she got up now, she'd probably be awake for at least another hour. Shifting away from Gabe so the pressure on her bladder eased, Michael lay still letting her mind drift until Gabe shifted under her, pushing her bra so that the underwire dug painfully into her side.

With a reluctant sigh, Michael eased away from him; she obviously wasn't going back to sleep anytime soon.

The faint pearl gray light of early dawn outlined shapes and humps in the darkness. Buran slept curled on her bed in the corner. With her hands to guide the way, Michael found her overnight bag and then the door that adjoined Gabriel's bedroom and bathroom.

She took care of her early morning needs, removing her bra even as she sat on the toilet. After that, it was time to change, blue and white striped dress traded for the bright yellow, flower print silk slip she'd brought and its matching robe. Feeling more comfortable by the moment Michael took a few minutes to brush her teeth, taking care not to get her injured hand wet. It was a little awkward, the cut still stung, but it hadn't started bleeding again. She'd ask Gabe to help her change the bandage a little later.  Teeth brushed, she tied up her hair with the silk scarf that matched her robe and slip.

Ready for bed and feeling completely awake, Michael checked the time on her phone, 5:34 a.m. She could still get in a couple more hours of sleep. Her Sunday mornings were like this sometimes, waking up between four and five a.m. still tired, but alert.  She was usually up just was long enough to brush her teeth, drink some water and lie in bed meditating before dozing off again. If she were at home Coco would come and settle on her purring, and looking for pets and cuddles.

As long as Gabe didn't wake up before she fell back asleep there was no reason for this Sunday to be any different. Michael filled a glass of water from the refrigerator and made her way back to the bedroom.

She stopped a moment, all thoughts of sleep fleeing in an instant.  The morning sunlight was now a soft gold creeping through the blinds, creating stripes and shadows across Gabe and his now prominent erection. Michael swallowed one hand settling reflexively on her abdomen as her body reminded her of what it was like to have him inside her, grinding those deep spots and she felt the wetness of arousal between her thighs.

At that moment it dawned on her why so many women wanted a man with a bigger dick. It meant he could- She swallowed and felt that deep internal tightening again as heat flushed through her. This wasn't the first time she'd been turned on like this, but this was the first time she actually understood it.

Instead of making for the bed she pulled her scarf off and went to the bathroom first. Studying her reflection, she tugged at her hair fluffing it into a flattering crown of dark coils and curls. She'd been afraid of sex that it might hurt, or that it would be bad or that she'd embarrass herself, none of that had happened.

_His weight pressing her to the bed, his back muscles flexing under her hands, the pleasant if slightly uncomfortable stretch as he'd filled her over and over again, the desperate ache that made her hips roll of their own accord and finally the pleasure that had flooded her entire body._

She could almost feel it now. Michael drew in a breath resting her hands on her chest just below her collarbone for a moment. Contemplating for a moment the world that was opening up for her, experiences that she'd always envied, but never had. No more silently nodding along pretending agreement when talking with other women about sex. Satisfied she eased the bathroom door open and approached the bed

Gabe looked a bit younger in his sleep, his face relaxed, some of the lines that told his age disappearing. Her eyes moved over his broad shoulders, the salt, and pepper sprinkling of hair that covered his chest. _Was it rude to wake your partner up for sex? People did that, didn't they?_

She stroked his beard, it was always soft to the touch and whatever he dressed it with smelled like bergamot, warm, spicy and sharp. When he didn't seem to react, she slid her hand down his neck and over his broad shoulders savoring the feel of firm muscles and warm skin under her hands.

He didn't wake yet but sighed and hummed. Michael thought maybe he liked the feel of her light touch grazing his skin.

Encouraged she leaned over and pressed a kiss just below his ear and then another on his neck and another just a bit lower. He sighed, and his skin felt just a bit warmer. He definitely liked it. She brushed her lips over the pulse at his throat, nipping the skin lightly and felt it leap in response.

"If you keep doin' that you're gonna wake the one-eyed monster."  

Michael snickered and looked up at him meeting blue-eyes foggy with lust and sleep. His laugh rough and raspy joined hers a pleasant rumble in his chest.

"So cheesy."

He shrugged and stroked her hair.

"Good morning gorgeous." He caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger and gave her a quick smooch.

"Morning handsome."  Michael ran her hand down along his bared chest and over his abs firm, but lightly padded  and then walked her fingers along the line of salt and pepper hair toward his hard-on still covered by the bedsheet. "I think  that one-eyed monster is already awake."

Gabriel chuckled, and she settled her hand on his length, stroking him through the fabric of the bedsheet. Gabriel hummed in approval and kissed her forehead.

"He is. You still want to be on top, darlin'?"

Eyes wide with embarrassment she ducked her head, hiding it against his shoulder. Her face growing hot as she recalled the way she'd teased him yesterday.

Holding her arms with gentle hands, he eased them into sitting position.

"Come here my shy girl," he said and patted the space between naked his thighs, she did as told.

He kissed her then, and pushed her slip up over her head before settling a hand on her backside to pull her in close the other tangled in a fistful of her of her hair. Michael shivered as she felt the sweep of his hard length against her thigh, the only thing separating them was the flimsy lace of her panties.

She leaned into his kiss, let the heat of it make her weak, so she clung to him, his tongue hot and slick against hers, morning breath a worry that disappeared into the hot, heady feelings building inside of her.

Soon he had control over the situation, kissing her, hands gently stroking, then kneading her breast until her skin was hot the nipples stiffening under silk of her slip and the memory of wanting to be with him rapidly replaced with the quickly building reality of it.

"What do you want darlin'? You woke me up. Tell me what you want." The words were a caress against her ear that made her shiver.

"I-" She paused skin heating but this time from embarrassment at the idea of vocalizing the images that sprang to mind.

"You what?" He slid his hand down between her legs, "I love how wet you get, drippin' through your panties."

He stroked her clit, applying just the right amount of pressure and she moaned.

"What do you want Michael, baby, what do you want? You want me to fuck that tight little pussy of yours?"

"Mhmm." The assent came out in a breathless moan as she bit her lower lip.

"Then say it."

His finger slipped inside her, and she arched against his hand.

"I want-" she swallowed. "I want you to fuck me right where your finger is."

"Good girl," Gabriel said and massaged her clit with his thumb making her whimper.

"Now tell me how you want it lil' darlin'." He tugged at her hair with his other hand exposing her neck to his kiss.  She felt that inner tightening reminding her of where and how she wanted him.

"Deep," she said at last. "Deep and slow."

She felt the vibration of a growl against her throat, and he pushed her back onto the bed.

"Don't worry lil' darlin, I'm gonna give you what you want."

He held her against the bed for just a moment hand resting on her abdomen. Then he moved to get a condom from the nightstand.

"Take your panties off." He said an eye on her as he opened the condom. Holding his eyes, Michael slid the red lace over her hips savoring the silk softness of her skin under sensitive fingertips. Gabriel was watching her intently now arrested, giving into some sudden teasing urge she paused running the tip of her tongue across her upper lip and pulling her knees toward her chest so she could slip her underwear off.

Gabriel let out another growl and grabbed one of her ankles, pulling her toward him across the bed in one swift motion. He put her feet up on his chest below his shoulders.

"You delectable little tease."Michael grinned, and he rolled the condom down his length.

In the next moment, she let out a pleased little gasp as she felt the his head pressing against her and then a long moan as he entered her in one smooth, easy motion.

There was some lingering discomfort, but that was eclipsed almost instantly. That very first thrust hit that deep spot, the one that seemed almost to aching for him, pushing a long moan of pleasure out of her.

"Oh, Gabe."

"I know darlin'.

His hands gripped her thighs holding her in place as he began to move slowly, just as she'd asked, rocking her gently with each stroke. Feeling just a bit shy Michael let her eyelids flutter shut, her focus turning inward. She'd never known her body could feel this good.   

They fell into an easy, steady rhythm, the bed creaking as they rocked, her pleasure building. At the top of each stroke, there was that delicious flexing that made her roll her hips in response and built a heady pool of heated bliss deep in her belly. Of their own accord, her hands went to her breast, instinct guiding her touch them.

She grew wetter with each stroke, taking him deeper, the soft, steady smack of flesh against flesh the only sound as her pleasure built and her body began to tremble with it.

"Right there- Oh!"

"You wanna cum sweetheart?"

"Yes."

She demanded, and Gabe began to move faster, shorter strokes grinding that deep spot. Michael felt her eyes roll back into her head, as he drove her toward the heights of ecstasy.

_"Sogood-oh god- Gabe!"_

Her pleasure reached its peak, curling her toes and stretching throughout her body in one tense, perfect moment until she lay limp and breathless.

"You good darlin'?"

"Yeah," she answered just a little breathless as receding waves of pleasure passed through her.

"Good."

Gabe spread her thighs then pushing them back so he could rest a moment a between her hips his weight resting more firmly atop her.

"You're still-"

"Yeah, sweetheart."

His lips found hers even as he began to move again still hard and deep inside her as the beginning of a second orgasm began to build behind the first.

* * *

 

Water, hot and steamy rained down on her neck and shoulders, and she leaned against the dark tiles savoring the heat, the soft sweet scent of her soap drifting around her and the way the heat and the seemed to enhance the fading echo of Gabe's touch on her skin and the memory of pleasure washing through her.

_If she had known sex could be this good she'd have made it more of a priority._

It had only taken a month of dating for her to decide to sleep with Gabe, the few times they'd made out, the way he respected her and let her go at her own pace had been enough to convince her that she should have her first sexual encounter with him.

She'd been ready for it to hurt, to not be good, to not climax the first time.  She'd read so many conflicting things about sex romance novels that made it seem so fucking hot, but everything that wasn't fiction, most of what people insisted to be the truth that it was really hard for women to enjoy sex, especially at the beginning and yet she was enjoying it alot.

It hadn't hurt much, but that she understood.  The popular idea of the hymen as a barrier to be destroyed was all wrong, but everything claiming to be practical and honest about sex insisted that sex for women was universally meh' until they fell into a groove with a partner and that most women derived a good deal of pleasure from the simple intimacy of the act.

It hadn't sounded very appealing at all. Yet so many women she knew were incredibly eager to have sex, in spite of the fact that they often seemed to report the same, mostly mediocre encounters until they lucked up on that one special guy. The way they talked it was like their bodies sometimes wanted sex simply because they had it before even if it wasn't all that great.

That had never made sense to her. Wanting a repeat of what she'd been doing with Gabe though, that made perfect sense. She felt that now familiar internal tightening and decided that they should, in fact, engage in intercourse at least once more before she went home.

_Was it always like this? If she wasn't so mad at Sylvia, she'd call her and ask._

She could call Nyota, but Nyota didn't know she'd been a virgin until yesterday. It wasn't the kind of thing that one shared easily not when one was thirty years old.

Michael finished her shower and turned off the spray of steamy hot water. Wrapping herself in one of Gabe's large fluffy bath towels she stepped out onto the bathmat the plush rug absorbing water as it dripped from her skin.

She patted herself dry and smoothed her softly scented rose cream over still damp skin, admiring herself as she did so. Soft skin, smooth and supple, toned muscle lean from years of martial arts and exercise. The doubts that had plagued her yesterday did not resurface, and she was left to savor the afterglow that resulted from the pleasure she could derive from her body, her hands moving over her skin stirring the plesant echo of arousal in her sensitive flesh. Even the soreness she felt had a deliciousness to it, the discomfort of a good work-out and she found herself savoring it, her body craving his touch. All she had to do was close her eyes to let herself get caught up in it.

Gabriel knocked on the door then, the sound jolting her out of her reverie.

"You about done? The bacon will be done soon, and I want to start the french toast."

"Oh yes," she said forcing her voice to sound normal. When she heard him move away, Michael began to dress in a pair of skinny jeans, and white blouse with cut-out shoulders and crochet lace trim.

She managed to get her hair into an acceptable puff, but it was still pretty tangled at the roots from sleeping on it. The beautician was going to talk about her at the salon.

Dressed she went to the kitchen just in time to see Gabe laying slices of batter dipped bread on the griddle, the scent of cinnamon filled the air mingling with the smokey, saltiness of crisp bacon. Something that seemed to be very 80's synth-pop was playing. He was shirtless, wearing the pajama bottoms he hadn't actually bothered to wear to bed.

"Is this the Stranger Things Soundtrack?"

Gabriel shot her a dirty look.

"It's Dead or Alive, and it's a classic."

Her only response was to shrug as the song finished and then a commercial for J.G. Wentworth started.

"Oh my God Is this the radio? Are you listening to the radio?" Michael bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing.

"Yes, it is. Sometimes you don't want to spend an hour making a playlist. Now stop talking smack,  get some plates out and we'll eat at the bar."

"And listen to the radio?" She snickered.

Gabriel's only response was to roll his eyes. Still amused Michael set their places with plates, silverware, napkins, and glasses for OJ before sitting down with a mug of coffee, while another vaguely familiar song played on the radio.

"I got into an argument with Sylvia," she announced. "That's what took so long yesterday."

"What about?"

She studied the olive and gold striping on one of the plates, wondering if it this was something she should share with him.

"Michael?" He looked up from the griddle expression patient thoughtful and all at once she made up her mind.

"She doesn't think I should be dating you, because of our ages."

Gabriel was quiet his attention shifting to the griddle as he checked their food. The sizzling of french toast filled the silence, and the radio announced a sale for Old Navy swim separates.  Michael felt a little creep of dread.

"I'm sorry I shouldn't drag-"

"What did you say to her?"

"I told her I liked you very much, more than any man I'd met in a very long time and I wasn't some barely legal child getting her head spun around by her college professor or a guy with a nice car or something."

He laughed at that she felt just a bit relieved.

"I also told her I found some that I really liked and who wasn't freaked out by the fact that I was a virgin and she should be happy for me."

He didn't look directly at her, but he was smiling, and she could see a tinge of pink along his ears.

"Have I- are you flustered? Are your ears turning pink?" Delighted Michael crossed the room to put an arm around his waist and run her fingertip along one ear, her smile grew when they went from pink to red.

"You are flustered."

"I'm trying to focus on the toast," he said tone defensive. Michael felt her smile broaden and she rested her cheek against his shoulder absorbing the fact that saying she liked him a lot was what had turned his ears pink.

Another song started on the radio, a change of tone, something familiar soft, jazzy and Michael knew it was 80's because of the saxophone.

"This song is really familiar."

"It's Sade," Gabriel replied and Michael resisted the urge to declare that her parents used to listen to the songstress when she was a child.

"What did Sylvia say? Did she apologize?"

"She did."

"There's that.  I can't say I'm happy to hear your friend thinks that, but you can't be surprised. Toast is almost ready by the way."

"I'm not surprised I just-" She weighed her words carefully. "She's my best friend, and you want to share the things that make you happy with your best friend."

"Well, I don't know about being shared with your best friend-"

"-Hahaha-"

"But people are gonna be bothered by the gap in our ages, make assumptions. It's something you're gonna have to live with sweetheart just like those racist folks we run into."

"I suppose."

Michael relinquished her hold on him and returned to her seat at the bar, humming along with the familiar r&b song as she realized exactly what the words:

 _I'm coming up, I'm coming  You're making me dance, inside._ She couldn't quite believe that she'd actually sung this as an innocent 5 year-old.

Gabriel made their plates three slices of french toast apiece along with several strips of crisp bacon.

"Is there syrup?"

"Yup." He surprised her by setting a covered dish on the bar with a ladle.

"What's this?"

"I made syrup for our toast."

Michael lifted the lid and found homemade strawberry syrup still warm with whole strawberries.

"There's maple in the fridge if you don't want strawberry."

"Ohh, no I'm definitely eating  this." She said bouncing on her seat with excited curiosity.

"You're gonna like it."

She ladled syrup onto her toast and then Gabe's and the two settled down eat.

"It's probably easier for me."

"What is?"

"The age gap, well I mention that the woman I'm seeing is thirty, and I get that mid-life crisis look, and then I tell folks you're a microbiologist and you can see the wheels in their heads turning, because no one dates a microbiologists that's fluent in three languages as a mid-life crisis even if she is gorgeous."

"You know I'm going to get a high opinion of myself if you keep that up."

"Well, cutie-pie I don't date nobodies." He reached across the counter to stroke the back of her hand and leaned in closer as he spoke. "In addition to being gorgeous and sweet and brilliant, you have the incredibly good taste to date me."

Michael laughed as she rolled her eyes and shoved a forkful of french toast in his mouth, wiping syrup from his lower lip with her thumb.

"And I can cook too," he bragged around a mouth full of food.

She didn't bother to respond but nodded at her first bite of crisp and fluffy french toast with homemade strawberry syrup. And it was good, the syrup was still warm the strawberries tender, but not overcooked and the toast was crisp and spicy with hints of cinnamon and nutmeg.

"It is good," she complimented before taking a sip of orange juice, "really good. All this good food and good sex I'd date you if you were 200 hundred."

"Am I a vampire in this scenario?" He said but turned a bit pink at the compliment.

"I did like those Twilight books when I was a teenager."

He winced.

"Ya'know I think I'm gonna have to take you home now. Don't call me I'll call you."

Michael let out a gasp of mock outrage and playfully whacked his arm.  

"They say people resort to violence and insults when they don't have a defense."

"Not even going to dignify that with a response."

They ate in silence for a bit, and Michael found herself growing annoyed when the J.G. Wentworth commercial played for a third time.

"How about we listen to the iPod?"

"You don't like the commercials?"

"No. They're getting on my nerves."

"Change it to whatever you like."

"Thank you."

_"The unseasonably warm weather will come to an end today, with temperatures dropping. Expect storms by-"_

"Wait, the weather-"

"We can check it on the phone." She said switching the stereo from radio to iPod before scrolling through his playlists and picking one titled 80's Jams.

"See, it's the same thing, but no commercials."

"You know what Millennial-"

"What Boomer?"

His eyes narrowed.

"I know Millenials and Baby Boomers are the two most self-centered generations to ever exist, but show some respect to Generation-X."

"Apologies old man." Michael settled back on the stool.

"Watch yourself you're not too old for me to put over my knee."

It was delivered completely casually, Gabriel wasn't even looking at her when he said it, but Michael felt heat flush through her, and she wriggled in her place on the barstool attention fixed on her plate. Unsure how she wanted to respond to the threat she changed the subject.

"We're going to print my pictures today, right?"

"Yeah, we'll print your pictures, take Buran for a walk. I don't have really have anything on my plate today, so whatever want."

They made their plans for the day: Buran's walk, printing her pictures, then maybe going out for lunch and finally Gabriel dropping her off her appointment at the salon.  They finished eating, and Michael loaded the dishwasher while Gabriel showered.

Afterward, they took Buran for a nice long walk on the lakefront. There weren't many people out, so Gabriel let Buran off her leash playing fetch and letting her run ahead as they strolled. The breeze off the lake was cool, the unseasonably warm temperatures already dropping to something more typical for early May just as the weather forecaster had said. Her light jacket wasn't quite enough, and Gabriel put his arm around her as they walked.

When they returned from the walk, it was time to print her pictures. She ended with several favorites including one of Gabe sitting with their picnic basket. Pictures printed they found themselves at loose ends and Gabe seducing her again despite her half-hearted protests about having to shower again. Not that she minded, Michael had waited years for these experiences, the chemistry between herself and Gabe made the wait more than worth it.  

So for all that she played at being coy when Gabe tugged her chair closer to his so their knees brushed before kissing her Michael kissed him back happily.

* * *

 

The ceiling fan whirred and clicked, soft, gentle sounds, the blades blurring into each other. Michael stretched and watched as Gabriel's eyes traveled the length of her body lingering first on her breast and then her bare legs. They were lounging Gabe's living room, Michael dressed in one of his shirts her head pillowed in his lap.

"This is the most relaxing Sunday I've had in a long time." She reached over and picked up one of the prosciutto rolls from the lunch tray Gabriel had put together for them, nuts, cheese, and fresh fruit, a quick, easy, satisfying lunch.

"What do you usually do on Sundays besides getting your hair done?"

"I'm keeping my hair appointment by the way."

"Your hair looks fine."

"Says the man who wrecked it."

"Yeah, and you liked every minute of it darlin'."

She squirmed and looked away, a shiver running through. The way he called her darlin' was starting to have a very particular effect on her.

"I do lots on Sundays," she said casually. "Put in a little extra work, or work on my YouTube, maybe see some friends or family, make sure my place is nice and clean and everything is ready for work, if some of the BGS girls are struggling with homework I might tutor them it just depends.."

"You like to keep busy?"

"Yeah," she said frowning, thinking again of the twelve-year-old girl who'd chosen work and achievement as an antidote to grief and loss.

"What is it?"

"Remember on our first date near the end, and you'd told me about how you had been a bit of a bully when you were twelve, and that's how you coped with your parent's divorce."

"Yeah."

"And after that, I talked a little bit about my parent's death. I used achievement to deal with losing them, but I've been thinking recently that maybe I made the wrong decision. That maybe it's shaped my life too much. Like why do I spend so much time at work or keep so busy always?"

"Well, why do you?"

"Back then I wanted to make sure my new family didn't regret taking me in.  That was part of it, but also it gave me something else to think about. Amanda, my adoptive mom, wanted me to get counseling and draw pictures confront my feelings, but my adoptive dad told me I could deal with it my own way. My way was not dealing with it. I've been wondering since that conversation we had if that twelve-year-old made the best choices for me."

Gabriel stroked her face.

"You have a good life, Michael."

"I do, but-" she paused not sure how to continue or if she wanted to.

"But what?"

"I've achieved a lot, but my personal life has suffered."

"Well, your personal life looks pretty good to me sweetheart."

Michael smiled at that.

"Maybe, but Friday was the first day I'd called in sick or even taken a day off since I took that job and what thirty-year-old woman do you know that has only ever had one boyfriend in her entire life?"

"Listen, I know it doesn't feel like it, because it always feels like it's too late no matter how old you are when we get these feelings, but today is a great day to start living your life differently. "

"Yeah," she said tone soft. "Do you have regrets about your life?"

"Loads of 'em," he said expression nonplussed.

"Loads?"

"Look no one's perfect, so you're gonna make mistakes, but you know that already. And it always sounds really good in movies when they say things like "No regrets!", but that's not possible. Cause you're not perfect, so you're gonna make mistakes and those mistakes are either gonna hurt you or other people and the only way to not regret those mistakes is to have the perfect emotional response every time which-"

"-isn't possible because no one's perfect. So what's one thing you regret?"

"For a long time, I regretted not dating my ex-wife in high school."

"Why didn't you?"

"Interracial dating was still a big deal in the south in the 80's, and  even I give a damn sometimes."

Michael nodded, "What's something you still regret now?"

"Staying in the Navy as long as I did."

"Why? You made a lot of money, and you liked the work."

"I did, but a few years after the divorce I started to feel lost."

Michael nodded.

"And I knew I needed to do something different, but instead of doing something different I just- how did you put it ' _let the currents of life push me around'_ and I then I figured I was too old to do anything else and I should just stay until retirement age."

"But it had lost that sense of camaraderie and excitement for you."

"Yeah," he smiled. "My exact words and then I also became a bit disillusioned with it all. It can be a good way for young people to build a nest egg, gain some skills, that sorta thing, but as a country, we're just pumping all of our resources into the military for what? It doesn't work," he shook his head.

Michael nodded he'd expressed similar sentiments before.

"But I didn't re-up the last time, and here I am," he smiled. "Much happier. And I think I can help you with your boyfriend problem. You said your boyfriend was that Ash Tyler kid."

Michael rolled her eyes. "Yes, and he was an adult."

"Mhmm," Gabe said rubbing his chin. "Well, why don't you introduce me to people as your boyfriend and you can put your boyfriend count up to two? How about that?"

Michael frowned pretending to consider a moment.

"Aren'tyou a little old to be called someone's boyfriend?"

"You know I was just trying to help you out with your boyfriend count, but if that's how you wanna play it."

"Awww," she rubbed his chest. "Don't be like that."

His only reply was an undignified snort.

"Lover is too intimate. It would have to be bae."

"Bae? Aren't babe or baby already short enough?"

Michael laughed then.

"You are old, and it is not short for babe or baby. It's like boyfriend or girlfriend, but not for high school kids and gender neutral."

He seemed to consider a moment.

"Bae?"

"Yeah, bae?"

"Alright, bae," he said it with an uncomfortable insistence that it made Michael groan.

"You're so white and such a dork."

"You're the one trying to make me use Black slang, which according to y'all we never ever get right anyway."

"Alright, boyfriend you have a point."

He leaned down to kiss her then, and Michael snuggled into his arms.

* * *

"You got everything?"

"My other jewelry."

"It's on the nightstand. I'll take this down, bring the car around, you meet me out front."

"Ok."

Gabe handed her his door keys, and Michael pushed the call button for the elevator, feeling just a bit concerned about her hair appointment. It was a timed salon which was handy if she didn't want anything special done, but if you were late, you missed it altogether. The elevator came quick enough, and she got up to Gabe's floor with minimum stops. Her jewelry was right where Gabriel had said it would be, the silver gleaming in the afternoon sunlight. She went around to the side of the bed she'd slept on, grabbed her earrings and bracelet, wrapped them in a kleenex and slipped them into her purse.

Michael was ready to head back down, but her thoughts went to that picture of Gabe and Anthony. She looked over at the other side of the bed, the side where Gabe slept. A gleaming dust free strip of wood reminded her of the missing picture of Gabriel and Anthony. Curious now she walked over to the other nightstand and pulled the drawer open.

The picture lay there amidst pens, lotion, a pair of reading glasses, condoms, lip balm, Gabe and Anthony smiling, mountains in the background. Anthony sat comfortably on Gabriel's shoulders and waved to the camera.  Frowning at the reminder that Gabriel was keeping a secret Michael pushed the drawer shut, she had an appointment.

* * *

"Have a good night."

Michael waved to her Uber driver and looked up at the early evening sky, setting sun breaking over scattered clouds in waves of red and yellow. The driver waved and took off, and Michael shivered in the breeze it had grown cooler still just as the weather forecaster predicted and now with the incoming clouds it might actually storm. Shouldering her bag, she strode across the lawn to the door of her apartment building keys in hand.

If it did rain, she hoped it was done by morning. Wet streets always meant a slow commute even when you used the commuter trains. She took the stairs to the third floor at a run, it was somehow less tiring than climbing them at a walk. She put her key in the lock and paused she hadn't spoken to Sylvia all day. With a shrug, she unlocked the door and was greeted by two fluffy faces one black, one white. Of course, she'd gone away overnight, so Coco and Snowball were right there. Before taking off her bag or shoes, she crouched to pet both animals, floorboards creaking underfoot.

She stroked Snowball's face and grazed light fingers over Coco's fluffy white belly.

"Let me get settled and you guys can have all the pets you want."

She stowed her bag and shoes in the hall closet, and Coco and Snowball began zipping up and down the hall eyes wide excitement, tails high, ears pricked forward. They always did this when she returned home after a deviation from her normal routine. Michael stopped in the kitchen to check the food and water dishes for the cats and found both full. Satisfied that the animals weren't in urgent need of her attention she went to her bedroom to change. Trading her blouse and jeans for stretch pants, a soft cropped tank, and fuzzy socks.

Then she laid back on her bed and snapped a few pictures in different poses. She'd gotten her hair styled into a waterfall of long fluffy curls cascading to the right. Her reasoning was to let Gabe see her new hair but the pouty lips and bedroom eyes were just because. She picked her favorite and captioned it 'Do you like it?' And hit send.

**G.L.: 'Looks great I can come over and mess it up for you anytime.**

Michael grinned trying to decide what to say back when there was a knock on the door. She looked up to see Sylvia standing in the open doorway.

"Thought I heard you come in."

"Well it's open, you don't have to knock."

"Your hair looks really pretty by the way."

"Thanks." Michael got up and went to the closet, she needed to finish putting her things away and decide what she was going to wear to work next week.

"Has it gotten really cold out'?"

"Yes."

"I guess the summer weather is over."

"For now," she said finally looking at the other woman.

Sylvia had settled on the loveseat, Coco was already settled in her lap and the redhead was scratching absently behind the cat's ears.

"So, listen, I wanted to apologize."

"You already did."

"I know, but I wanted to again."

Taking a deep breath, Michael crossed her arms and met her friend's eyes. The younger woman certainly looked sincere.

"Okay."

"I was completely out of line yesterday. I thought about what you said about everything, about how other men have acted with you and how much you like him and I mean-" She paused. "I was really just projecting what I would think and want instead of listening to you and I'm sorry. It was completely wrong of me."

Never one for grudges Michael nodded and let a little smile creep up her face.

"Well you're forgiven. I'm in too good a mood to stay angry."

"Yah!" Sylvia jumped to her feet grinning arms open for a hug.  The two friends exchanged a hug and settled on the love seat. Coco leaped up into Michael's lap but curled up, so he was settled in both their laps while Snowball sat at their feet grooming herself.

The pair sat in silence listening to the wind rattle of the wind against the windows.

"So you're in a good mood, and you slept at his place?"

"Yes to both of those."

"So you guys definitely slept together."

"Oh my god is that why you're being nice? Cause you want to gossip?"

"I'm always nice just sometimes I talk too much." Sylvia pouted, and Michael chuckled.

"That last part is definitely true."

"So how was it? Was it good? Was it great? Did he make you scream?" Sylvia grinned with excitement and Michael flushed.

"I'm not answering any of those questions. I will say that I was very, very satisfied."  She couldn't help, but let out a little laugh and Sylvia laughed with her.

"I do really like him, Sylvia."

"I know. That's why I apologized. I worry about you because of Ash, but you're parents already do that. I figure you don't need any more from me."

 Michael sighed. "I know, but Gabe isn't like Ash. Ash is wounded, broken he's trying to get better, but in retrospect, our relationship wasn't good for him, not at that time."

"This is why I worry about you."

"What?"

"You're making excuses for him."

"I'm not making excuses I'm looking at his actions in context."

"Michael context is great in courtrooms, but why does it matter now?" The redhead looked at her expectantly, lips pursed.

"I don't-  I don't know, it just does."

"Does what exactly? He almost killed you and then got mad that you broke up with him for it."

Michael got to her feet and moved to the window.

"Just think about it for a moment. He had a nervous breakdown, he's locked up in a mental health facility surrounded by strangers-"

"-I have thought about it, and I get that he's needy and wants to feel good, but that shouldn't come at your expense."

"Well, that's why I broke up with him."

"Eventually. You _eventually_ broke up with him. Yes, I know Ash has his problems and yes I know they aren't his fault, but he nearly strangled my best friend. You wanna forgive him and be considerate, fine. I'm not."

Michael didn't say anything for all that there was a part of her that defended Ash, wanted people to understand him as a whole person and not define him by that single act there was another part of her that was touched by her friend's protective anger.

"Did you know that if I hear you moving around in the middle of the night," Sylvia paused and shook her head.  "Like you may just be getting up to get water or use the bathroom, but I get anxious like this dreadful feeling settles in my stomach and I can't relax until I hear you get back into bed."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"I don't want you to feel bad. I want you to still come to me if those nightmares come back."

Michael rubbed her arms not just at the thought of the nightmares, but the memory of that time. The fear, the exhaustion, the daily battle with herself. It had only been a month, the nightmares stopping when she finally cut all contact with Ash. But it had been one of the most difficult periods of her life.

"You're a good friend Sylvia." Michael returned to her seat.

"I know."

Michael laughed at that and the other woman put an arm around her shoulders.

"So how many times did you do it? Was it more than once? How's his stamina?"

"Oh my god." She started to laugh though the bad memories swirling away.

"Look the stamina thing is important, and it's a real issue for some of them when they get older."

"You say it like they're horses."

"Well you do get to ride."

Michael didn't know whether to laugh or be offended at the obviousness of it even as Sylvia snickered clearly pleased with herself.

"FYI Gabriel does not have any stamina problems. In fact, I might be the one with the stamina problem." She said ruefully.

"Well if your vag is a little sore Epsom salts in the bath, that's normal at first, but if it continues more foreplay, add some lube."

"Gee thanks, mom."

"Sure anytime. Also, there is no reason for you to behaving bad sex, the first time is understandable, but-"

"-I was well satisfied, every time." Michael tried to look serious but broke down into laughter.

"Really? The first time."

"Every single time."

"Damn Gabe, maybe I should reevaluate my position on older men, shit." The redhead looked impressed.

"I support it a hundred percent."

"So how many times is every time?"

Michael shook her head.  "You are so nosey, and I'm not answering that."

"Fine, you're no fun."

Again the two women lapsed into silence.

"As long as Gabe makes you happy I'll be happy for you," Sylvia said.

"Good cause I want my best friend and my boyfriend to get along."

Friends again the two women chatted catching up on one another's lives. Sylvia had plenty of homework and was preparing for finals only a few weeks away, listening to her Michael was relieved that her time in school was over for now.  When it was her turn to talk Michael thought about bringing up Anthony but decided not to focusing instead on work and Gabriel.

Eventually, they moved to the kitchen. While Michael warmed her dinner in her convection oven Sylvia waited for Doordash to bring her Chinese food.

"How did you cut your hand?"

"I tried to cook one of Gabe's Hello Fresh meals."

Sylvia started to laugh.

"It wasn't my fault the dog-"

"The dog?"

"Yes the dog," Michael told Sylvia all about her disastrous attempt at meal preparation while they waited for their food.

"You know Michael, you have a lot of money. You don't ever have to cook, just keep ordering those Freshee's things. They're good, right?"

They were good, delivered three times a week so all she had to do was put them in the oven and heat them up and in a few minutes she had pesto chicken with potato gnocchi and broccoli.

After dinner, Sylvia reminded Michael that she'd agreed to watch more of that new Star Trek with her.

It did improve on the third episode, and she let Sylvia coax her into watching a couple more episodes. By the time they'd finished she had to admit she'd found herself intrigued, even if the spore drive was one of those techno MacGuffins that would never work in real life and she thought using holograms was a stupid waste of energy for facetime.

After that, it was time to get ready for bed. Sylvia had early classes on Monday, and Michael soon found herself alone in the apartment except for her roommate's gentle snores. Normally, she liked being alone, but as she traded her clothes for a pair of silk pajama pants and a matching camisole, Michael felt the stirring of a peculiar melancholy.

A discontent that stayed with her as she tied up her hair and washed her face, the bathroom tiles chill underfoot.

Almost ready for bed Michael went to the bathroom window to pull it shut. The temperature had fallen throughout the day so the air coming in was quiet cold. Still she paused and looked up at a night overcast with thick heavy clouds. The forecaster had been right, Michael found herself hoping it would rain tonight rather than in the morning during her commute. She felt that little twinge of sadness at the thought of her morning commute.

Sunday night blues, she realized suddenly though she'd never felt them before; she liked her job. But of course it wasn't about work, it was about Gabriel and this long week where she wouldn't get to see him.

Done in the bathroom, she turned off the light and paused in the doorway looking into her bedroom. The cats lounging, familiar with her routine and ready for bed, the soft yellow glow of the lamp, her bedroom with it's soft muted colors, cool and inviting. Her space, somehow a lonely space now.

For a moment she wondered if she should be worried they'd only known one another a month. Then again her father swore he'd fallen in love with her mother at first sight. That wasn't her and Gabe though- She wouldn't compare them to that and yet in a very short he had become very important. In one short month, her relationship with Gabriel had surpassed any relationship she'd had with a man since she'd been old enough to seriously think about boys and boyfriends.

Michael padded into the bedroom and climbed into bed switching off the light. The windows rattled buffeted by a powerful gust of wind and Michael snuggled into bed grateful that she was inside instead of out.

_Gabriel was everything but her first kiss._

She could recall it easily enough a cute boy and a sad, lonely girl who feared she didn't fit into this new world she'd found herself thrust into. They'd kissed in a maze at a garden party in a Capetown mansion. She still remembered his accented English and the relaxed hair he'd been so proud of. She didn't have the heart to tell him she thought his hair was stupid, Black boys didn't relax their hair back home. But South Africa was a weird, weird place.

She rolled over onto her back Coco protesting with a meow, while Snowball shifted around her. Outside the wind continued to rattle the panes and it was joined now by the sound of distant thunder.

Still, she remembered that boy and that kiss. They were still Facebook friends, and he no longer had the relaxer. She'd been adventurous back then, and yet in the intervening year's nothing, much had happened. There'd been the boy who'd squeezed her burgeoning breast too hard so she'd hit him and stormed off.

There had been the boy who'd been surprised to discover that South Side was still a virgin. She still didn't know how it was that that nickname followed her, but it did, kids were ass-holes. Girls from the South Side of Chicago were all gangster, hood rats not innocent and confused or in need of tenderness and compassion.  She'd shown the little ass-hole gangster.

And after that, she was just busy, busy, busy for years. Sarek and Amanda were pleased, but she'd woken up to find herself still a virgin at twenty-two and then at twenty-five, then twenty-seven and finally thirty. It felt like a curse, always out of step, until now, until Gabe who just didn't give a damn.

She recalled that moment right when they'd finished the first time, his forehead resting against hers, eyes closed and that little swallow he'd done there had been so much to read in his face.

_"You looked the freest I've ever seen you sweetheart, and that to me is beautiful."_

It couldn't be possible to like him too much not when she was getting so much from this relationship.

The photo of Gabriel and Anthony floated to the surface of her weary mind, but Anthony would be a grown man, not some secret child Gabriel would be hiding. Except it wasn't just Anthony, it was a reminder of all the things she didn't really know about him.

There was a flash of lightning blinding in its brilliance it's accompanying thunder --a deafening crack-- not even a full second behind it made her jump.  Its force shook the building and Coco, and Snowball scrambled under the bed even as car alarms went off all around the neighborhood. The storm had to be overhead, when had it gotten so close?

Michael picked up her phone as the rain started to come down at last, falling in lashes and torrents, powerful gusts of wind rattling the panes.

"Hello, gorgeous." His voice was warm, gravely, softened by that southern drawl.

"Hey, there handsome."

"You listening to the storm."

"Yeah," she curled onto her side the last of her Sunday night blues fading.

"Tell me a story."

"A story?"

"Yes, one of those naval stories."

"Hmmm." She could almost hear him thinking. "Alright, I think I have one for you."

He started with a story something funny that happened when he was stationed in Thailand.  He told her about his culture shock induced responses to the food, the people. The rain grew loud a background that closed out the rest of the world, falling in torrents, thick sheets, an obscuring curtain between her and the rest of the world.

They talked into the night, her concerns about Anthony, about the difference in their ages, about them having only known each other a month easily pushed to the back of her mind as she lay curled on her side Coco and Snowball curled in the bend of her knees and at her feet savoring the warmth of his voice.

 

* * *

Woohoo! Part one is finished! As always please come stop by my tumblr and message me [here](https://mrsmichaellorca.tumblr.com/). 

I also have a moderately active [USS Archangel](https://ussarchangel.tumblr.com/) side blog please come by and follow for upcoming events or if you would like to volunteer to help with those events just let me know. Thanks so much for reading and going on this journey with me. Archangel for life, throwing up the wings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to think that the length of this chapter --longest chapter in the entire fic-- makes up for the length of time it took to publish, sorry. So this is the end of pt. 1. Pt. 2 is in the works. There are probably a couple little details I should have touched on, but honestly, this chapter is so long, it just needed to be done. I'm starting a bunch of overtime for my move and maybe running a Christmas fic event for Lorcham so this had to be done.
> 
> Onto my notes:
> 
> So I reversed Sylvia and Michael's reactions to Ash, but that makes sense to me. No longer a murderous Klingon agent he's just her abusive boyfriend regardless of whether or not he can be considered to be responsible for his actions at the time. So her best friend has the exact response you'd expect a best friend to have and Michael is as many women are just confused by what happened to her loving boyfriend.
> 
> Music: Dead or Alive: You Spin Me Right Round, Gabe is right it's a great song, Sade: Your Love is King another equally excellent and surprisingly naughty song: "I'm coming up, I'm coming. You're making me dance inside.". "Really, Sade, it's the 80's." I do have a growing soundtrack for Adoration, it's a mix of songs that sort of represent the characters and songs that actually play during the chapters.
> 
> Finally, a brief summary of pt 2: Michael and Gabe are now happily in a relationship, but can this fragile web of feeling stand up to the tests that arise from their past.

**Author's Note:**

> I've had a lot of Archangel fic ideas, but this one was just sticking with me. I got this idea after chatting with my fellow shippers in our archangel chat. Hope you enjoyed Michael and Gabriel's first meeting, update coming soon. Please take comment and let me know what you think. Thanks for reading, I love this ship, OMG!


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